Drifting between towns...infinite oyster shucking, burnt orange backdrops and drunken buffoonery boat rides. Hay stacked camp sites to Heyfield motel rooms masquerading as penthouse sweets. A taste for the excessive in carbonated technicolour. Blistered, beat up, barn yard beers.. Easy riding and shell diving. Time moves slow when you watch the sun. Beachy crumbles and sand tumbles. Scouring road-side antique stores for techniques, turn tables and gramophones. Taking one last lick of ya ice cream cone. I’d like most of, if not all of it.. and don’t wrap it too tightly, i’m ready now... The road seems to bend to our will. Light up a smoke and white knuckle the steering wheel. Bullet rides and sky high soda tides! Please be kind and don’t rewind.. Adios amigos!