Hell fire, had me one o' those 1200 cee cee twins, man it was pure dynomite.
Had me an' ol' lady named Nadine who rolled her ciggs up in her sleeve, sported red pedal pushers with patent leather saddle shoes, and knew every Glenn Campbell song by heart.
Them boys down at the beer emplorium usta hoot an' holler when we'd glide into the parking lot on my sickle. Me and Nadine had matching tan 'sickle hats, fringed arm chaps, with our names written on 'em in silver & rhinestone studs.
Hell, I miss them days like stink. Me, Nadine and my 'mosickle.