Sunday, July 13, 2008

Born to be Wild

I have seen the boys of summer in their ruin. I put on my bifocals to find out who they are. They look like geezers to me. I would have stopped to chat with them but the nurse called me in for pudding. I like that. I always dribble it down my chin, and she wipes it off with a napkin. I look down her blouse. Ho ho. I'm a clever guy.

One of these days soon I'll get my motor running, head out on the highway. Heavy metal thunder. I was born to be wild.

I remember when I was a boy. Things were different then. We used to worry about getting a date on Friday night. Now a days boys stay home and play video games and girls go out and beat up old ladies at subway stops. All in fun, of course.

Hark, I hear the strains of the organ. It's not my bladder this time, it's Mary-Lou warming up the Hammond in the entertainment room. The director is calling: "Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me."

Disco night at the old-folks home. There are still some of us left.

Go, Mary-Lou!

Get your motor runnin'
Head out on the highway
Lookin' for adventure
And whatever comes our way
Yeah Darlin' go make it happen
Take the world in a love embrace
Fire all of your guns at once
And explode into space

I like smoke and lightning
Heavy metal thunder
Racin' with the wind
And the feelin' that I'm under
Yeah Darlin' go make it happen
Take the world in a love embrace
Fire all of your guns at once
And explode into space

Like a true nature's child
We were born, born to be wild
We can climb so high
I never wanna die

Born to be wild
Born to be wild

Words and Music by Mars Bonfire.

No sharia for this guy.

Thanks to CGW for the photo of the chopper.

2 comments:

truepeers said...

gives a whole new meaning to chopper...

Anonymous said...

I see your writing talents are many, O Wild One . . . humor being not the least of them.