It sounds like thunder far away, but the skies are blue and bright... And soon we crest the hill nearby, and ride into your sight. We shake the ground with powerful sound, and make some hearts beat fast... We look so proud and noble, like knights coming from the past. Side by side, we always ride, and seem to move as one... From early in the morning light, to the setting of the sun. And children point and wave to us, from cars that we pass And young ones ask their parents, why we ride. They ride the roads, and fight for good, They raise money and bring toys to small sick childern just like you... We love to ride, and do with pride, and sometimes We are few. Like men and women of steel, on silver wings, We sparkle in the light... then with a roar and rumble, We ride out of your sight. And sometimes when one has fallen, never to ride again... You can hear the others calling, like thunder on the wind. Side by side, We slowly ride, and our thunder is a mournful sound... And our helmets hide our eyes. When teardrops fall to ground. So if you see one of us riding, and you look into our face... You will see your reflection in our eyes; know that you are safe. For trikers are a special breed, We love to ride the wind... And when you hear the thunder boom, the fallen ones ride again. Author Unknown