Never Learned to Ride

[Verse 1: Hoarse Americana-rock male lead, raspy shouted Americana-rock lead, driving rock drums] Folding chair on Holt Street and a coffee can of bolts Thirty years of summers fixing everybody's spokes Flat tire, quarter, broken chain, a dollar Got no money, bring it anyway, I'll holler Every kid on this block took a spill on my curb Every kid on this block learned to fly on my word I can true a wheel blind, I can hear a bad gear I can tell you what's wrong from the end of the pier I got grease in my knuckles like a map of the town But there's one thing I never told nobody around Little Rosa on her red one says come to the park And I froze in my chair like a dog in the dark [Pre-Hook: Hoarse Americana-rock male lead, big open-chord guitars, drums build] Said I can't, baby girl, I don't know how Never had one to learn on, and it's too late now [Hook: Hoarse Americana-rock male lead, full band, thick bass guitar] Never learned to ride, never had the wheels Fixed a thousand bikes, never knew how it feels Hold the seat, hold the seat, let go when I say Never learned to ride till the kids showed the way [Verse 2: Hoarse Americana-rock male lead, louder Americana-rock lead, open-chord guitars] Well the word went down Holt Street faster than a flat By the morning there were six kids, a helmet and a mat They picked the biggest one I had, a blue one I rebuilt Still too small for my knees and my ego and my guilt Rosa on the left side, Marcus on the back Little Jay running front yelling keep it on track Pedal, Mister Tony, don't you look at the ground I been telling them that for thirty years around I went down by the hydrant, I went down by the fence Every time I went down they just picked me up again And the whole street watching from the steps with a beer Sixty years old and I'm learning it here [Bridge: Hoarse Americana-rock male lead, whammy dive, the lead guitar dives long and the band crashes in] Then I felt the hands go, all six at once And the wheel didn't wobble, and the chain didn't jump And I made the corner on my own two feet And the whole block yelling like a ballgame on the street [Final Hook: Hoarse Americana-rock male lead, full band, Americana-rock raw full voice] Never learned to ride, never had the wheels Fixed a thousand bikes, never knew how it feels Hold the seat, hold the seat, let go when I say Never learned to ride till the kids showed the way [End]