Red face, shaky hands Too many screwdrivers Can throw a wrench into the best of plans It’ll take a lot to fix this mechanic But with a little elbow grease And something to eat He’ll be running like new Just you see
Grease Wagon Paper cups, Hot chips and sauce; Sticky fingers dip in for just one more...
I’m thinking ‘grease wagon’ may need some explanation. Not sure whether it’s Ocker, Kiwi, Mainland, or scarfie (i.e. student) lingo but it’s what we’ve always called mobile tuck shops that sell...well, ‘greasies’.
‘I despise formal restaurants. I would much rather eat potato chips on the sidewalk.’ - Werner Herzog
Another graduating class headed to another Grease themed party Where another girl will have a revelation and meet the T Bird of her dreams. Another plethora of pink ladies jackets and James Dean boys Where another me and you will dance again.
Another life, much like my own where a popular boy cares Where for a split second it doesn't matter how many people know you. Another night, much like that night where you'll be worlds away again Where I'll stay up all night thinking and falling in love.
Another girl is doing this right now. She's at home, late at night dreaming of him. He probably doesn't know or care too much. She doesn't quite know what it is that she wants but she knows that he fits in somewhere. He doesn't know what he wants at all. In the end, it will be too little, too late. Another day, week, month, year will go by And they will be in the same place as they started.
Another set of Sandys and Dannys, Rizzos and Kenickies, Where the magic of the movie wears off and the cycle starts again.
And he handed me the carnage of so many wasted and poverty stricken corpses. And I scrubbed. And as I scrubbed, I watched the water turn into tea and then into coffee and then into a rainbow-shimmering sheen of crude oil. I scraped the burnt-on remains-off so the worn, rusted, yet impregnable metal pieces could be a bit more presentable: lamentable. In preparation of the first-world ones who take a bite at pleasure, and then discard. Who borrow by bond their treasure and waste the world with all their lard.
I don't usually write about stuff like this, to be honest I think it's the only one of its kind I have.
Maybe I'm so hung up on you because boys like you in movies are supposed to call a girl like me back and as far as love stories go, this is the part where you tell me you miss our conversations and the way my hand feels against yours and you wish you had stuck with me because yo said the wrong thing so many times and I just laughed along and loved you anyways
And maybe I'm so hung up on the way your voice sounded when you were happy because as far as love stories go, your voice sounded that way because of me
But maybe I've seen too many movies and that's why I let you kiss me