well I guess this is where it all begins  
 go in sandburg come out like ray charles  
 an odor of jasmine for yer flowers  
 sometimes on my bicycle rides  
 these pleasantries fall from the trees  
 little Quixote's fished out like floaties  
 from the bevy of yer choice  
  
 ladies choice  
  
 flyin down this hill on my schwin  
 well I guess it all could have ended then  
 unlike consternation's quagmire above  
 the streets firmly paved ways  
 coupled with speed and gravity  
 and the craniums tendency  
 to leak vital information  
 all over the road to recovery