Ain’t Got a Corvette

Sometimes it’s all a waste,
Sometimes not,
The drive, the traffic
The memories,
The cold,
The dark mornings,
The same songs,
The same breakfasts,
The same coffee,

But I’ll be damned
If I let the routine
Creep into my life,
Stealing the hope
From any seismic activity or
Continental shifting
Be it prophesy or heresy
I’m living this life to get faster,
Kind of a Santino way
Except I plan on getting past the toll booth
And LIVING a long ass time.

Give me that coffee,
Give me those breakfasts,
Let me listen to those songs,
Wake up on the darkest of mornings,
Even when they’re cold,
So I can create new memories,
Beat the traffic, whether driving alone or on the smoothest road
Because none of it, not one bit
Is a waste.

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