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A mile to work and a mile to home; I roam this bay town more often alone Than with anyone else who's willing to stay; I fray and I wither like Bill back in the day Of those times so funky where music was fresh; Outta breath I would get singing along in my vette: I pretend, quite often, that instead I do own; But no, it's well know of my junker I roam That I travel point A to point B by such mode; Yes, I go via foot or death trap on the road That is ever before me and ready to fight; Whether night or day light, my knees give their might And walk and stomp and push best they can; Whether sit or stand or cross bridges off land I do hope to pickup a better way, Less stranger; But danger aside, I drive on: me and my ford ranger.
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Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 11:28 PM UTC
An ode to my truck
A mile to work and a mile to home; I roam this bay town more often alone Than with anyone else who's willing to stay; I fray and I wither like Bill back in the day Of those times so funky where music was fresh; Outta breath I would get singing along in my vette: I pretend, quite often, that instead I do own; But no, it's well know of my junker I roam That I travel point A to point B by such mode; Yes, I go via foot or death trap on the road That is ever before me and ready to fight; Whether night or day light, my knees give their might And walk and stomp and push best they can; Whether sit or stand or cross bridges off land I do hope to pickup a better way, Less stranger; But danger aside, I drive on: me and my ford ranger.
Money pit not worth the spit but business necessitates these trips
christopher-walker
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Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 11:28 PM UTC
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