Irony is Not a Type of Metal

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So the highway is a string of decisions
You can’t always tell at the time
If the hand that you’re shaking will later be making you
Wish you had not been so blind

And tonight there are lights all around me
So I’m not really sure where I am
But I’m flashing and burning and everything is turning out
Stranger than I ever planned

If we try to see into the future
I suggest we might question our eyes
There are buses and trains that run through the rain
Back to anything that passed us by

My body is like a Toyota
With good mileage and low cost repairs
But my mind needs and oil change and I’m here to exchange
A favor for paper and prayers

I am sure I belong in a movie
I have yet to discover what kind
But these empty containers and legal disclaimers
Suggest I won’t like what I find

You were not my first choice of distraction
And you won’t like my taste in LPs
But it’s quarter to midnight, if we play our cards right
Nobody will see when we leave

 - November 2012 -                                                                 #073