Shoot a 45
and drive
out past nothing


all the fields you pass
and crash

like you're supposed to

I know that much

I want it back
I know that much
I want it back


you won a ticker tape parade
you paid

in triplicate

but your undershirt is choked

with the poems that you wrote
in red


and you roll your eyes
and you cross your Ts
for me


shoot a 45
and drive

out past nothing

I know that much

I want it back
I know that much
I want it back