He was wearing panties, motorcycle boots, a black leather jacket with an eagle on his back. His motorcycle was going like a cannonball, terror was spreading throughout the region. Never did he shave, never did he wash his face. His nails were full of cambouis, but on his biceps he had a tattoo with a blue heart on the problem. And just inside we read, Mom I love you. He had a little friend named Mary Lou, we took pity on her, a child of his age. Because everyone knew that he loved his motorcycle dog much more. He was wearing panties, motorcycle boots, a black leather jacket with an eagle on his back. His motorcycle was going like a cannonball, terror was spreading throughout the region. Mary Lou, the poor girl, implored the supplier. Don't leave tonight, I'm going to cry if you leave. But the words were lost, his tears the same. In the noise of the machine and the exhaust pipe. He was flying like a devil with flames in his eyes. At the level crossing, it was like a blue flash. Against a locomotive that was going towards noon. And when we got rid of the debris, we found his motorcycle boots, his black leather jacket with an eagle on his back. But nothing left of the motorcycle and nothing left of this demon who spread terror throughout the region.