So Bubby said that on graduation night
He and Jamby was gonna leave the gym
Toss their rented caps and gowns to some friends
Rev up their Harleys, and leave forever
This little town, where nothin’ ever happens
They had made their plans, you see, real good plans
They’d pack what they needed in their saddle bags
And thunder night and day to Florida
Because there was good jobs waitin’ in Florida
Away from this town, where nothin’ ever happens
They wasn’t gonna stop except for gas
Gas and eats and beer and the American road!
WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
They wasn’t gonna really stop until
Their front wheels touched the cold Atlantic
Not like in this town, where nothin’ ever happens
But they didn’t.
And next year Bubba rolled
His pickup on that curve next to the school
This little town, where nothin’ ever happens
Your ‘umble scrivener’s site is:
Reactionarydrivel.blogspot.com.
It’s not at all reactionary, tho’ it might be drivel.
Lawrence Hall’s vanity publications are available on amazon.com as Kindle and on bits of dead tree: The Road to Magdalena, Paleo-Hippies at Work and Play, Lady with a Dead Turtle, Don’t Forget Your Shoes and Grapes, Coffee and a Dead Alligator to Go, and Dispatches from the Colonial Office.
