With Them   10-18-99				   

Through colorful skies,			
Mighty T-Bone rises 
to evil’s surprise.                  

Razor, a plight-loving demon,        
targets in on the phantoms
blowing their schemes to atoms.

With the dihedrals’ vast size,
No altitude is too high.
Such heights, I hope to fly.
 
“Razor, sly guy, give me a try.
We can sense danger in our eyes 
And ride for luck where it lies.”

“T-Bone, vanishing in the sun,
May your race be won,
Let me, like Razor, be a son.”

Now we ride,
Three allies side by side,
In morning or evening tide.