and Words
Bicycle, bicycle, bicycle
I want to ride my bicycle, bicycle, bicycle
I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride my bike
I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride it where I like
Lyric excerpts from Musixmatch.
In my early days on the sunny isle of Puerto Rico, I really wanted a bicycle. My parents ran a restaurant which doubled as our home. We resided on the dividing line between San Juan and Rio Piedras, a busy street as far as Puerto Rican roads go. Running the business also kept them occupied. They could easily keep an eye on me if I were sitting around doing my homework or watching television, but once I wandered out onto the streets, all bets were off. They vetoed the idea of a bicycle based on these two factors.
Once we moved to Fort Lauderdale, I got my first bike. My mom found a Kent BMX bike that she could afford in one of the local department stores, like Jefferson’s. I tolerated that bicycle for the first year or two; it would be that or nothing at all. We were poor, and while my mom provided us with whatever we needed, what we wanted was entirely another discussion.