I took liberal license years ago when Kurt G was healthy, verbose, funny, opiniated, and on his quest for a Calypso Red CSi.
We both had a good laugh about the below result and I hadn't realized it was still on my hard drive until last night. Still miss him.

The Highwayman
By Alfred Noyes, modified slightly with apologies to Alfie, by David C

Part One

The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight, over the purple moor,
And Kurt G came driving-driving-driving-
Kurt G came driving, up to the old inn-door.

He'd a Bimmer hat on his forehead, some BBQ sauce on his chin,
A shirt with a loud Hawaiian print, and Bermuda shorts worn kinda thin;
They fitted with just a few wrinkles: too bad grease stains were on his thigh!
And he drove with a jewelled twinkle, his shift knob a-twinkle,
His custom license plate a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.

Over the cobbles he laid some rubber in the dark inn-yard,
And he tapped with his key fob on the shutters, but all was locked and barred;
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter, Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

And dark in the old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Tim the butler listened; his face was white and peaked;
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
But he loved the landlord's daughter, the landlord's red-lipped daughter,
Dumb as a Lexus owner he listened, and he heard Kurt G say-

"One kiss, my horny sweetheart, I'm after my dream car to-night,
But I shall be back with my Calypso CSi before the morning light;
Yet, if they press me with lasers, and radar guns through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight, watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though cops should bar the way."

He rose upright through the sunroof; he scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair i' the casement! His face burnt like a brand
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,(Oh, sweet black waves in the moonlight!)
Then he tugged at his wheel in the moonlight, and sped away to the West.

Part Two

He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon;
And out o' the tawny sunset, before the rise o' the moon,
When the road was a gipsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor,
The state patrol came swarming-swarming-swarming-
California's state patrol came swarming, up to the old inn-door.

They said no word to the landlord, they ticketed him for parking instead,
But they gagged his daughter and cuffed her to the foot of her narrow bed;
Two of them knelt at her casement, with their lasers at their side!
There was staters at every window; and radar at one dark window;
For Bess could see, through the casement, the road that he would drive.

They had tied her up to attention, with many a s******ing jest;
They left her purse beside her, a copped a quick feel of her breast!
"Now keep good watch!" and they kissed her.
She heard Kurt G say-
Look for me by moonlight; watch for me by moonlight;
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though cops should bar the way!

She twisted her hands behind her; but the damn cuffs held good!
She writhed her hands till here fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years,
Till, now, on the stroke of midnight, cold, on the stroke of midnight,
The tip of one finger touched it! The remote at least was hers!

The tip of one finger touched it; she strove no more for the rest!
Up, she stood up to attention, with the greasy fingerprints on her breast,
She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again;
For the road lay bare in the moonlight; blank and bare in the moonlight;
And the blood of her veins in the moonlight throbbed to her love's refrain.

Vrooooom; Vrooooom! Had they heard it? The V-12 was ringing clear;
Vrooooom, GRind! (damn manuals!), in the distance?
Were they deaf that they did not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
Kurt G came racing, racing, racing!
The staters looked to their triggers! She stood up strait and still!

Vrrrrroooooom, in the frosty silence! Vrrrrooom, in the echoing night!
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!
Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she tried to keep her poise,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight, her car alarm shattered the moonlight,
Shattered the silence in the moonlight and warned him with obnoxious noise.

He turned; he floored it to the West; he was almost within their sights.
Bess stood with her hand on the remote, being read her Miranda rights!
Not till the dawn he heard it, his face grew grey to hear
How Bess, the landlord's daughter, the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and was busted in the darkness there.

Back, he raced like a madman, quickly drawing near,
With the tire smoke behind him and redline in every gear!
Blood-red were his car's highlights in the golden noon; wine-red was his Hawaiian shirt,
When they tagged him down on the highway, lazed like a dog on the highway,
And he sat in his car on the highway, for they had nailed the elusive Kurt.
* * * * * *

And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
Kurt G comes pedaling-pedaling-pedaling-
Kurt G comes pedaling, for he has his CSi no more.

Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard,
And he taps with his bike lock on the shutters, but all is locked and barred;
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter, Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

Vaya Con Dios Kurt