well I guess this is where it all begins
 go in sandburg come out like ray charles
 an odor of jasmine for yer flowers
 sometimes on my bicycle rides
 these pleasantries fall from the trees
 little Quixote's fished out like floaties
 from the bevy of yer choice

 ladies choice

 flyin down this hill on my schwin
 well I guess it all could have ended then
 unlike consternation's quagmire above
 the streets firmly paved ways
 coupled with speed and gravity
 and the craniums tendency
 to leak vital information
 all over the road to recovery