You are calling to me. Begging me to ride you. One day soon I will. If I'm gonna die eventually, I might as well do it in a grand way and enjoy myself. And that means that if you kill me, at least I'll die happy and with a big grin on my face.
You are so shiny and pretty, you call to me. You beg me to ride you off into the sunset.
Next year is going to be the year. I will learn to ride you and then I will get that pretty little endorsement on my license. You just wait motorcycle.
Your Covetous Friend,