Reluctantly crouched at the starting line Engines pumping and thumping in time The green light flashes, the flags go up Churning and burning, they yearn for the cup They deftly maneuver and muscle for rank Fuel burning fast on an empty tank Reckless and wild, they pour through the turns Their prowess is potent and secretly stern As they speed through the finish, the flags go down The fans get up and they get out of town The arena is empty except for one man Still driving and striving as fast as he can The sun has gone down and the moon has come up And long ago somebody left with the cup But hes driving and striving and hugging the turns And thinking of someone for whom he still burns Hes going the distance Hes going for speed Shes all alone In her time of need Because hes racing and pacing and plotting the course Hes fighting and biting and riding on his horse Hes going the distance No trophy, no flowers, no flashbulbs, no wine Hes haunted by something he cannot define Bowel-shaking earthquakes of doubt and remorse Assail him, impale him with monster-truck force In his mind, hes still driving, still making the grade
Posted on: Tue, 16 Sep 2014 11:18:14 +0000
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