Impress me Harley Davidson

Can't get right was late again, late in life, and luck, and found himself homeless again, and hungry. As the cell phone rings from Whitey. Rings from quotidian complaints of driving constant improvement. Constant consumption of programmed reruns, of I want a Fat boy, all draped in leather studs. Impress me Harley Davidson. Impress me with why I should buy you. Why I should find freedom in your persona, all dolled up, and chocolate coated. Of why I should want to find escape from success, as I drive by the failures, and know that they wantme, and know they are jealous, because I have found IT, in your chrome coated American Dream.