Lunch break car rides where we’d laugh until the tears were streaming down our faces.
How many fucking hours we spent in garages covered in metal shavings, road grime, grease, gas, paint, and more paint. Not having a fucking clue what we were doing.
How many miles we shared a lane knowing we were on this earth to ride choppers together.
Too many times you talked me out of drunkenly fighting that guy at the bar on a Friday night. I still think I could’ve taken’em.
Countless nights on stages beating our guitars and backs up because it was always our dream.
Drunken pedal bike rides home after sharing too many pitchers of Long Hammer after work.
Watching you use your kid as a bat.
Figuring out ways to drink more during our lifelong foosball tournament. I’m still in the lead by the way.
How many times you’ve listened to me over analyze my bullshit with girls.
Satan knows how many cases of beers we’ve drank in garages, back yards, sheds, and practice spaces.
How many times you told me I’d be alright.
How many times I told you, you’d be alright.
Three o’clock in the morning burrito runs. “Dude… Fries.”
How many flasks we’ve snuck in to Sports when we were too broke to pay bar prices. Fuck, how many beers for that matter.
Do you think we’ll ever get sick of listening Children of the Grave?
Riding together down 16th on my way out of town with neither of us knowing when the I’d be back.
Thanks for never talking down to me when I didn’t know how to do something in the garage. Thanks for always believing in me when I tried to quit smoking. Thanks for always listening when I said the same shit over and over again. Thanks for being patient when I had a broken heart.
We will play music together again.
We will wrench on bikes together again.
We will ride choppers together again.
We will drink all of the beers and all of the whiskey together again.