I'm beginning to be concerned about what my iPod song list says about me

Five days a week, I get up at 5:15 in the morning to power walk as fast as I can around my neighborhood. Step-by step, frightening bunnies around ever corner, I blow through a 2-1/2 mile route in a little over 30 minutes. While I'm sure there are those who could do more in less time, I'm totally OK with that. I'm doing this for my mental and physical health, and not to compete with anyone.

This morning, wearing my Bob Dylan "Love and Theft" black T-shirt, gray gym shorts and my beige cap, I was sleepwalking through my regular route, listening to my old iPod shuffle while the house key I have attached to my lanyard bounced painfully back and forth against my chest. About halfway through my walk, I finally came to and really started listening to the songs my iPod was playing:

Get yer motor running
Head out on the highway
Lookin' for adventure
and whatever comes our way
Born to be wi-i-i-i-ld...

I don't even own a motorcycle. They're loud. They frighten me. The one time I got on a motorcycle was when I was a teenager, and a friend invited me to take a ride. I put on my helmet and sat behind him and we tore off down the busy highway. Only later did I realize it was inappropriate for me to wrap my arms around his waist.

Agents of the law
Luckless pedestrian
I know you're out there
With rage in your eyes and your megaphones
Saying all is forgiven
Mad Dog, surrender
How can I answer?
A man of my mind can do anything

I'm no bookkeeper's son. I don't want to hurt no one. Why do I enjoy this song about a guy who's paranoid, insane and plotting destruction?

I dip my cup of of soup back from a gurgling, crackling cauldron in some train yard
My beard a rufflin' coal pile and a dirty hat pulled low across my face
Through cupped hands round a tin can I pretend to hold you to my breast and find
That you're wavin' from the backroads by the rivers of my mem'ry
Ever smiling, ever gentle on my mind

What am I? A bum who dumps women and leaves them crying to their mothers when they turn and I am gone? Yeah, my hat's a little dirty, and it's pulled low across my face, but I'm definitely not going to be sharing soup with a bunch of transients in a train yard anytime soon. I hope.

Oh daddy dear, you know you're still number one
but girls just want to have fu-un
oh, girls just wanna have fun

Oh, God.