i had a little friend once upon a time and he would say motorbikes are the safest cos you can jump free in a traffic accident situation he said that no shit my little friend ~ and my little friend moaned about the walk home after the pub so much i used to carry him he would call me his cart horse and say giddyup horsey we had no cash for a cab he had no money for rounds i had a bottle for the road my dreams were blinkered under the inconstant trumpet moon and strength was all i had for me for my little friend for anyone ~ and one time i dont know why but i kicked him in the kneecap with my work boots on and he fell down a hill where the town stopped and the marsh started and now i never understood this but he was always keen to re-enact this event he was no shit and i was always willing to kick my little friend in the kneecap with my work boots on ~ hes gone now to the southern hemisphere and the last time i saw him was in awful daylight outside the library cos he wouldnt come out for evening drinks anymore he must stay in he said to polish his parents brass my little friend said that no shit ~ i wonder how he is and if he remembers his cart horse like i remember the jumper he wore that would ripple with flames if you threw a lit match at him and we all did that