Once. This past weekend. At a stoplight.

Passenger on back. I stopped, put me feet down, and for
whatever reason the bike decided it wasn't staying up straight. Started to lean, I grabbed the handlebar to catch it, but it was too late - thing tipped over to the left and broke the clutch lever in half.
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"They were crying when their sons left, God is wearing black. Hes gone so far to find no hope, hes never coming back. They were crying when their sons left, all young men must go. Hes come so far to find the truth hes never going home."
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