E-z-p-z

Come on, come on, come on, because I am done

with overpriced lemonade from the farmer's

market and home-sliced pickles marinated in

sweat and cyanide. Do not care if you cannot come,

do not care if you quote Guevara and Lenin,

do not care if we are just real real cool with no back

ups for whatever we tell each other, do not care if

I'm not your style, do not care if you're not mine.

Come on, come on, come on! On the road, we can

speak in excerpts and quote vinyl, we can drink

milkshakes and kiss road signs, come on,

take a photo with me underneath some big Bunyan 

sign,

we can drive drive drive drive drive like there is no end

to the road and let the tires blow out before the car 

burns

up. Come on, come, come, come, want to be with you,

want you in the driver's seat, want you with lemonade,

want you with hands full, want you in vinyl, want you,

want you, want, want, want you! Come on. Come on.