(no subject)
This is how I feel -
When I stamp on the accelerator until it shudders with pleasure
And I roll through a stop sign to avoid the long line
Of corporate somethings in their champagne sedans driving ten over
Because that’s faster than the norm, but not fast enough to get noticed
By cops or by God or by life
And maybe by being boring and having boring and loving boring
We can avoid really being and having and loving
Because that’s life, and life’s tough
And you drive your nondescript car to your beige office lit up by fluorescent lights
So harsh they hurt your eyes, and somehow that’s easier than living
And my tires squeal and I have to overcorrect
Because sand can sometimes be nastier than ice
Oh, I love when my brakes catch and what if they don’t hold?
But they always do, because machines don’t fail
People do, and maybe someday machines can run our machines
So I won’t have to stand in line at the mechanic shop
Waiting for my part, while greaseboys grope me with their filthy eyes
Because I’m the only one they’ve seen all day that tickles their fancy
And tickles something else besides, and oh it isn’t fair
Because if you snarl at them you’re a crazy skirt, and oh humanity
Them with their monkey wrench and oil on their Carharts
And me in my tight jeans and sunglasses and trembling hands
But on the highway we’re equal, not people, just machines
And me in my tight jeans, I can go just as fast as you
And hey you in your Ford Taurus
What do you think you’re doing, going ten under and in my way
I’ve got my life to live, and you’re in my way
Oh, what sick joy we get from pulling into the wrong lane and passing each other
And I always look over
And you always look back
Because as long as you weren’t the first one to look its ok
And we gaze at each other, two humans side by side
Careening at unnatural speeds down an unnatural highway in unnatural machines
But isn’t it just human nature? Such a morbid thrill we get
Out of passing others, flipping the bird
Screw you, I’ve got my own life to live
And you’re in my way, and you’re going too slow
And the only time we might pause our frenzy
Is to admire the mangled twisted wreck of someone who went faster than us
Because that could someday be us, how fascinating
How come we never acknowledge each other?
But rather go on in our private respective commutes, which happen to be
Speeding unnecessarily in the same direction, and despite the risk
Of me hitting you and vice versa
We ignore each other, and rather continue on our parallel paths
Despite what we have in common, humanity, society, industry
We will never meet and never notice and never care
Because I’m going my way and you’re going yours
And you’re going too slow
When I stamp on the accelerator until it shudders with pleasure
And I roll through a stop sign to avoid the long line
Of corporate somethings in their champagne sedans driving ten over
Because that’s faster than the norm, but not fast enough to get noticed
By cops or by God or by life
And maybe by being boring and having boring and loving boring
We can avoid really being and having and loving
Because that’s life, and life’s tough
And you drive your nondescript car to your beige office lit up by fluorescent lights
So harsh they hurt your eyes, and somehow that’s easier than living
And my tires squeal and I have to overcorrect
Because sand can sometimes be nastier than ice
Oh, I love when my brakes catch and what if they don’t hold?
But they always do, because machines don’t fail
People do, and maybe someday machines can run our machines
So I won’t have to stand in line at the mechanic shop
Waiting for my part, while greaseboys grope me with their filthy eyes
Because I’m the only one they’ve seen all day that tickles their fancy
And tickles something else besides, and oh it isn’t fair
Because if you snarl at them you’re a crazy skirt, and oh humanity
Them with their monkey wrench and oil on their Carharts
And me in my tight jeans and sunglasses and trembling hands
But on the highway we’re equal, not people, just machines
And me in my tight jeans, I can go just as fast as you
And hey you in your Ford Taurus
What do you think you’re doing, going ten under and in my way
I’ve got my life to live, and you’re in my way
Oh, what sick joy we get from pulling into the wrong lane and passing each other
And I always look over
And you always look back
Because as long as you weren’t the first one to look its ok
And we gaze at each other, two humans side by side
Careening at unnatural speeds down an unnatural highway in unnatural machines
But isn’t it just human nature? Such a morbid thrill we get
Out of passing others, flipping the bird
Screw you, I’ve got my own life to live
And you’re in my way, and you’re going too slow
And the only time we might pause our frenzy
Is to admire the mangled twisted wreck of someone who went faster than us
Because that could someday be us, how fascinating
How come we never acknowledge each other?
But rather go on in our private respective commutes, which happen to be
Speeding unnecessarily in the same direction, and despite the risk
Of me hitting you and vice versa
We ignore each other, and rather continue on our parallel paths
Despite what we have in common, humanity, society, industry
We will never meet and never notice and never care
Because I’m going my way and you’re going yours
And you’re going too slow