bike bells
The girl with the bell on her bicycle rides through the town, day and night, I've seen her ring the bell. There she goes ringing her bell - ring, ring - seemingly less obnoxious than a car horn, bicycles are harmless, after all.
Wheeling through the streets the bell rings and the people jump and scatter - what is that thing making that noise? And, by the time you've got it the machine has already whizzed by, it's such a cheap noise and hard to match it to much of anything without sight.
'ring' - I'm coming through. With the best of intentions, kindness even. The alert was sounded well in advance, the deed was done, no collision, you made your way. So go ahead and bowl on through, coast over the Assini, the city was made for you, didn't you know?
Though there's no excuse to be made for the pylons (me too), 'cause the fright is the instinct "they've finally caught up to me and I've now nowhere to hide." For many though it only takes the sight of the machine to bring the "phew, thank goodness is was only the girl on the bike and her bell." But not me, I'm still hiding.
... And, there was this kid a few years back, he was maybe 18 years old, or so my friend who told me the story thought, who stayed out real late, and got real drunk at some watering hole down Pembina. Well, when it came on to early morning, when he was really good and drunk he decided to walk home. And rolling home, halfway acrosse the bridge that crosses the Red, he fell, slid off the bridge, died, drowned right down there in the Red.
The city wouldn't stand for such a thing, he was just a kid the city screamed, everyone was appalled, so the city went ahead and took appropriate city action and decreed that all bars hold last calls real early. This of course has not stopped people from falling into the Red, what does time have to do with it? -- And I wouldn't call you a liar if you came and told me that at least one of those stumblers was frightened to fall by a bell on a bike.
Not the kid here though, he was victim of a whole other storm. His family endured the hushed wrath of the city -- "damn kid, it's all 'cause a that kid I can't stay out and drink no more."
Wheeling through the streets the bell rings and the people jump and scatter - what is that thing making that noise? And, by the time you've got it the machine has already whizzed by, it's such a cheap noise and hard to match it to much of anything without sight.
'ring' - I'm coming through. With the best of intentions, kindness even. The alert was sounded well in advance, the deed was done, no collision, you made your way. So go ahead and bowl on through, coast over the Assini, the city was made for you, didn't you know?
Though there's no excuse to be made for the pylons (me too), 'cause the fright is the instinct "they've finally caught up to me and I've now nowhere to hide." For many though it only takes the sight of the machine to bring the "phew, thank goodness is was only the girl on the bike and her bell." But not me, I'm still hiding.
... And, there was this kid a few years back, he was maybe 18 years old, or so my friend who told me the story thought, who stayed out real late, and got real drunk at some watering hole down Pembina. Well, when it came on to early morning, when he was really good and drunk he decided to walk home. And rolling home, halfway acrosse the bridge that crosses the Red, he fell, slid off the bridge, died, drowned right down there in the Red.
The city wouldn't stand for such a thing, he was just a kid the city screamed, everyone was appalled, so the city went ahead and took appropriate city action and decreed that all bars hold last calls real early. This of course has not stopped people from falling into the Red, what does time have to do with it? -- And I wouldn't call you a liar if you came and told me that at least one of those stumblers was frightened to fall by a bell on a bike.
Not the kid here though, he was victim of a whole other storm. His family endured the hushed wrath of the city -- "damn kid, it's all 'cause a that kid I can't stay out and drink no more."
posted by j/r at 10:00 p.m.
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