Bikers are a subculture, you might have heard folks say.
But how’s a man to join this clan? Must he ride every day?
Is there a special set of rules that helps define the rider?
And how long is this journey to becoming an insider?
Does one just go and buy a bike to claim their rightful place?
To get there will you need long hair and whiskers on your face?
Well, take heart, it’s your lucky day. I’m here to set you straight.
Just play it smart and act the part, then you won’t have to wait.
No dues to pay (unless you count the fortune you’ll be spending).
No greasy hands or club demands, it’s all done with pretending.
See, preparation’s paramount to taking on this role.
Without the right appearance you’re just one more rich asshole.
The “just-got-out-of-prison” look is what you must achieve,
So cultivate it carefully and you’ll make folks believe.
Naturally you’ll have to get yourself some Motor Clothes®.
The whole ensemble’s pricey, though, as every biker knows.
But that Official Uniform will suit you fine, you’ll see
(It’s sure to underscore your individuality).
Some new tattoos will show the world that you’re bad to the bone.
The tribal ones are popular, though which tribe is unknown.
Regrettably they hurt a bit; your skin will bleed and swell.
If that won’t do there’s fake ones, too, and they’ll work just as well.
Wearing helmets is for squares, so they should not be used.
Are you pro-choice? Have you no choice? Admit it, you’re confused.
Don’t bother thinking for yourself, mimic what others do.
Within a week you’ll go from geek to hardcore biker, too.
If all this seems like too much effort just to play a part,
Pretend it’s year ‘round Halloween and you’re a kid at heart.
And what about the bike itself? Is pristine paint taboo?
It’s true that chrome won’t get you home, but neither will bird doo.
Adorn your scoot with skulls and flames so there can be no doubt:
You scoff at death with every breath, it’s what you’re all about.
A bunch of Maltese crosses is another way to go.
What do they signify? Who cares, they’re only there for show.
The bike is just a prop you see, stage dressing in your play.
In full attire you’ll inspire all eyes to look your way.
I’m sure you’ve heard loud pipes are cool; they’re proof that you are tough.
Who cares if neighbors’ kids can’t sleep, too much is not enough!
Don’t bother learning riding skills ‘cause you were born to ride.
Cars can’t ignore your mighty roar, they all will move aside.
One thing that’s very crucial is to have a wide rear tire.
It won’t improve performance, but then that’s not your desire.
Again, it’s all about the look; fat rubber implies power.
They’ll never know your bike won’t go a hundred miles an hour.
Avoid the highway at all costs, the boulevard’s your spot.
More folks will see you, long to be you, riding skills or not.
Mostly you’ll just park the bike and pose in public view.
The hoi polloi can eye your toy while idolizing you.
Of course you’ll need a trailer that can haul your iron steed,
Paint on the side that “Live to Ride” is your official creed.
And don’t forget to drink a lot, it’s part of the mystique.
It makes you seem more interesting, rebellious and unique.
Along with that comes attitude, the nastier the better.
No one can know a faux Brando was once a frail bed wetter.
Be sure to work on language skills, particularly curse words.
A well-placed “sh*t” or “f*ck” is nice, or maybe you know worse words.
All men are “bro”, all women “bitch” – this may take some rehearsing.
But then who can remember names with all that drunken cursing?
Brag about your bike, call it “your latest acquisition”.
Mention you own three to further bolster your position.
Status symbols don’t come cheap, you’ve earned the right to boast.
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