oh, black bianchi, how good you were to me...did i treat you so poorly? why go home with some vicious and rabid hoodlum? the hip streets of portland will do you no good without me. sometime mr. milano you'll see me walking and wish you hadn't left. you with yr smug and dirty soul, yr broken fender and yr non-working seat light, oh who am i kidding, i want you bck, wnt ya bck sooo bad.