Tuesday, September 20, 2011

The Final Race

The wind rushes by me
The speed I can't ignore
Brushing shoulders with death
Keeps me from getting bored

Wind makes my eyes teary
The fear fuels my heart
It beats like a drum machine
That will tear me apart

I can only go faster
There will be no slowing down
In the face of disaster
There will be no throwing down

So if my death waits for me
I'll ask for a final race
I will win that one too
Leave exhaust fumes in death's face

Heh. Don't know what made me write this. But if you like to drive, and drive fast, I think you'll connect with this.