In Memory of Bugs
When I come to the end of the road,
and the sun has set for me,
I want no rites in a gloom-filled room,
Why cry for a soul set free.

Miss me a little, but not to long,
and not with your head bowed low.
Remember the love that we once shared,
Miss me, but let me go.

For this is a journey all must take,
and each must go alone.
It is all part of the Master's plan,
a step on the road to home.

When you are lonely and sick of heart,
go to the friends we know.
And bury your sorrows in doing good deeds,
Miss me --- but let me go.


John "Bugs" Rogers
November 28, 1943 - June 16, 2004
He rides in the night on the wind
Feels the presence of a friend
Shrouded in black, a glint of chrome
His fight over, he's headed home.

Misty dawn breaking in the sky
He's come to say his last goodbye
Shed no tears for we'll meet again
To ride forever in the wind.

Reaches his hand to touch a tear
Gripped by sudden cold dark fear
Soft gentle hug he cups her face
Filled with a hollow empty space.

A streak of light across the sky
He's come to say his last goodbye
Have faith my friend we'll meet again
To ride forever in the wind...