The Long Road

Winding in the middle of the night,
Leaning out of the window to cool off,
My ‘Lil Pistol’ rolls hot down the long road home.
Rolls like fog down the old Mississipi.
“Give me a tuneup” she says.
I say the same thing I say every time,
Next paycheck, I promise.
It fires like a bullet out of a 9mm.
On and on it runs, you just can’t kill a ghost.
On and on it runs, there’s no stopping the Beretta.


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