I just felt like writing a poem and this is what came to me.
Come on baby lets go on a historical quest,
It doesn't matter what my friends say,
I'm leaving this boring place anyway,
Thank your dad for his car and some cash,
And get in the car we are going to haul ass,
We hit I-40 doing seventy-five,
Heading west, man alive,
Never slow down is what I said,
If you do then your life is dead,
Through the cities the car flies,
As the muffler burns and cries,
We stop at a station for some gas,
It was a quick stop, faster than fast,
Pulled out with the pedal down,
We went right through that town,
My baby said this is happening too quick,
I said oh now going slow makes me sick,
We were weaving through cars and meet a cop,
He turned on the lights and siren but I didn't stop,
They had the chopper with his light on me,
But a big long blurry streak was all they could see,
Never slow down keep the pedal pressed,
Man the G-force feels good against my chest,
The cops layed off for they knew there was no hope,
And they couldn't dare miss the afternoon soaps,
Now we went so damn fast,
When we stopped we were in the past,
I was telling my baby to get in the car,
That we were leaving going out west pretty far.
Poetry by Justin
Read 470 times
Written on 2006-02-03 at 22:08
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Fastness
I'm sick of the east lets head out west,Come on baby lets go on a historical quest,
It doesn't matter what my friends say,
I'm leaving this boring place anyway,
Thank your dad for his car and some cash,
And get in the car we are going to haul ass,
We hit I-40 doing seventy-five,
Heading west, man alive,
Never slow down is what I said,
If you do then your life is dead,
Through the cities the car flies,
As the muffler burns and cries,
We stop at a station for some gas,
It was a quick stop, faster than fast,
Pulled out with the pedal down,
We went right through that town,
My baby said this is happening too quick,
I said oh now going slow makes me sick,
We were weaving through cars and meet a cop,
He turned on the lights and siren but I didn't stop,
They had the chopper with his light on me,
But a big long blurry streak was all they could see,
Never slow down keep the pedal pressed,
Man the G-force feels good against my chest,
The cops layed off for they knew there was no hope,
And they couldn't dare miss the afternoon soaps,
Now we went so damn fast,
When we stopped we were in the past,
I was telling my baby to get in the car,
That we were leaving going out west pretty far.
Poetry by Justin
Read 470 times
Written on 2006-02-03 at 22:08
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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