Prodah motor, kaciga ostala

I sold my YAMAHA just yesterday;my helmet's left at home now, stored away.Without a helmet many used to ride,but now a strict new law has been applied.From every side the police lie in wait:you need a helmet on a bike of late.A helmet like my own is sought today;it works for bike and motorbike either way.The helmet's new, it's been kept well and clean;a single month of use is all it's seen.Not once has it been rained on, not a drop;it guards your head when the rain won't stop.It's round in shape, and yellow-blue in hue;your darling through the visor comes in view.When it is cold, your head it warms just right,it shields your eyes when the sun is shining bright.Two vents are on the side as well: in brief,like air-con in a car, they bring relief.And if you fall and see a star, you'll restas safe as a small chick inside its nest.I'll sell the helmet cheap, and gladly, too,to anyone who wants it — maybe you!It is enough to give me just a callon my one proper telephone, that's all.Send me your word on this number — no tricks:six, six, two, nine hundred, ninety, six.