American Hero

American Hero

Robert Knevel was born in Montana,

The copper town Butte was his home.

But Butte was too small for a giant like Evel,

that town couldn’t hold him for long.

Young Knevel was driving a Cat in the mine,

But flying was really his Jones.

So he flew motorcycles instead of airplanes, (silly bastard),

and shattered most all of his bones.

From fountains to buses, Bob jumped them all.

Those darn landings were his only problem.

The takeoffs he nailed. Bob flew like a quail,

but the aftermath just left him hobbling.

He came back quite quickly from most of those crashes,

and daily grew stronger and stronger.

You could tell that his skills were growing as well,

since the wrecks lasted longer and longer.

Evel didn’t believe in practice for jumping.

His basic philosophy was, “Screw it.”

“Practice raises your exposure. Hell, I have to be perfect

the very first time that I do it.”

For an epic jump to crown his career,

Evel thought the Snake River was right.

He knew he’d need more than a stock motorcycle,

to take on that perilous flight

So they built a Sky-Cycle to sail him across.

A modern-day steam-powered flivver.

But the drogue chute broke, and like a stick in his spokes,

tossed ol’ Bob right into the river.

Though the stunt didn’t take, Bob didn’t break

any bones. Hey, that’s quite a thing.

And you have to admire the heuvos of a man,

who jumped over shit for a living.

So Evel passed on, but his memory shines

in every young kid with a bike,

and a couple of planks, and some concrete blocks,

and a burning obsession with flight.