windows down;

Just drivin' around, Anywhere

                                            outta town;

and We were flyin'. We were flyin'.

Aiming for the light at best.

            Or just deeper in the night I guess.

But we were flyin'- nice and slow.

                    Beer in a bottle, and talk radio.

The president doing his best

                                to drag us into one more

                    useless war.

But we were young,

                and dumb, and full of

                            that most noble of body fluids

the blood of native sons.

Ripe for

            Squandering.