Maybe the first two gears.
to show me the usual world.
Dirt and gray ...
and breathless.
of a sluggish day.
Perhaps tired.
And my happiness' is in the metal.
And in the streets of the desolate countryside.
What runs slow under the iron.
Gia 'in third.
Now fourth.
Gateway to the world faster.
And the air gets colder and bubbly.
The distances between diventan important.
No one looking for me.
to time I feel ...
scatter And the roads in my shakes,
the instant of my passing.
E sull'orrizzonte horses.
My .
Free.
And people are less and less.
And the emotions more and more '...
Harleys.
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