shoplifting a small pin from target
there's more than one way
to say i love you. fifty miles
an hour down the wrong side of the road
you buckle me in. spring the murder/suicide pact
in fifth gear but i'm against it. drop me at the corner
i'll leave the gist of me strapped right here.
the pin has a picture of david bowie.
you remind me of his eyes. i think i washed it.
it wasn't the pin i wanted.
i'm gonna open the safety
and poke the damn thing into an old shirt
with matching holes
more than fifty ways if you're counting. one
for every moment you have it. which,
for some of me, is all of them.
i promised. so you stopped. i lied
like belief. you're still driving for a living
but i'm more careful who i take a ride from
in fact, i think i'll buy a car.