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Poetry » Song » Silver Mustang font: B s : A A A . width: full 3/4 1/2
Author: Morgan Coldsoul
Fiction Rated: T - English - Fantasy/Humor - Published: 04-23-07 - Updated: 04-23-07 - Complete - id:2351684

VERSE 1

Well, it’s been some time since I’ve been gone
‘Cause the cruise control is always on
Morning to midnight, come rain or shine
On the back roads or on the main state line
And I don’t really know how long it’s been
Since he pulled up and told me to jump on in
He spun off onto a one-way track
With Sister Sorrow in the front seat and me in the back
And took off burning rubber in two lines on the highway
We just keep on driving as fast as we can
We don’t have a roadmap or even a plan
Our final destination is never in sight
Even though we drop someone off there every night
And, somehow, it seems like there’s always a crowd
‘Cause the back seat is constantly shifting around
I’ve got no worries and nothing to lose
Still, I can’t help but wonder why he’s letting me cruise
‘Cause all the others get off, and only I am told I can stay

CHORUS 1

Well, you never know quite when he’s gonna arrive
But when he does, you’re in for one hell of a drive
Down a road paved with good intentions and past mistakes
Oh, he never slows down and he never turns right
Always runs straight through every damn red light
Puts the petal to the metal and gives it all the gas it can take
Oh, he charges two dollars to ride in the back
His glasses and the leather upholstery are black
But his eyes are red with all the songs four men sang
Wherever he goes, Hell follows behind
He only stops for funerals and laughs the whole time
Blasting death metal from the speakers of his silver mustang
Hey, hey, blasting death metal from the speakers of a silver mustang

VERSE 2

One time we slowed down out on Route 66
And we took a turn leading way out in the sticks
In the middle of nowhere, we hit a dead end
But it looked like he was expecting a friend
It wasn’t too long till they started to show
How they knew to meet us, I may never know
Three other drivers pulled up alongside
Each one at the wheel of a pretty sweet ride
And I asked myself why they were meeting each other out here
The first was a big Harley done up in white
The guy who got off was one hell of a sight
Instead of a helmet, he wore some kind of crown
And he didn’t look the type made for fooling around
From a long red bus stepped a woman so svelte
That I almost missed seeing the sword on her belt
Out of a minivan, painted in black
Came a lady with a pair of scales slung at her back
It seemed I knew all their faces, but my memories were unclear

CHORUS 1

VERSE 3

They talked for a moment, away from the car
I was trying to listen, but they were too far
So I slipped in the front seat and felt of the wheel
And the lady on my right said, “How does it feel?”
I thought she was just being a tease
Then our driver came back and he gave me the keys
I looked back up at him and his friends
I was getting kind of nervous till he started to grin
And he said, “Go on, it’s my turn to sit in the rear.”
He and his friends welcomed me to the pack
And then I fired it up while he climbed in the back
He handed me two coins to pay for his fare
When asked how he got them, he just told me, “In pairs.”
He gave me directions to the end of the road
And there, he got out and he silently strode
Away, while Sister Sorrow restored all my hopes
And told me, “Don’t worry, I’ll show you the ropes.”
And somehow, I knew, I had just found myself a career

CHORUS 2

Well, you never know quite when I’m gonna arrive
But when I do, you’re in for one hell of a drive
Down a road paved with good intentions and past mistakes
Oh, I never slow down and I never turn right
Always run straight through every damn red light
Put the petal to the metal and give it all the gas it can take
Oh, I’ll charge you two dollars to ride in the back
My glasses and the leather upholstery are black
But my eyes are red with all the songs my friends sang
Wherever I go, Hell follows behind
I only stop for funerals and laugh the whole time
Blasting death metal from the speakers of my silver mustang
Hey, hey, blasting death metal from the speakers of a silver mustang



© Copyright 2007 Morgan Coldsoul (FictionPress ID:363749).


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