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jonathan-b-wilsonPoems
Telephone poles flicker past Eating up this tarmac Only one speed, fast Racing like we're on a track Smoke rollin out the window Cold brews in the console Eyes closing from the dro Bodies loose from the alcohol Jammin them back road tunes This is how we roll Peanut butter and mushrooms Some X for a real good stroll Feelin like we're floatin You know we're totin Driving round and round So lost we don't wanna be found Sounds dangerous you say? You may think me insane But I find it all mundane It's just an average weekday Hittin the road I call it Covering county after county If the authorities only saw it We'd fetch a hefty bounty
0
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 10:14 PM UTC
(765) Back Roads
Telephone poles flicker past Eating up this tarmac Only one speed, fast Racing like we're on a track Smoke rollin out the window Cold brews in the console Eyes closing from the dro Bodies loose from the alcohol Jammin them back road tunes This is how we roll Peanut butter and mushrooms Some X for a real good stroll Feelin like we're floatin You know we're totin Driving round and round So lost we don't wanna be found Sounds dangerous you say? You may think me insane But I find it all mundane It's just an average weekday Hittin the road I call it Covering county after county If the authorities only saw it We'd fetch a hefty bounty
jonathan-b-wilson
Written by
jonathan-b-wilson
29/M
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 10:14 PM UTC
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