deepundergroundpoetry.com
Motor Oil
The roaring.
The purring.
My baby's got me going.
Thousands miles an hour.
Oh honey, it don't matter.
Speeding past cop cars.
Darling, you are the only o
Berlin far behind.
America we may find.
With rushing wind and crashing in.
We sped until the midnight end.
The purring.
My baby's got me going.
Thousands miles an hour.
Oh honey, it don't matter.
Speeding past cop cars.
Darling, you are the only o
Berlin far behind.
America we may find.
With rushing wind and crashing in.
We sped until the midnight end.
Published 14th Oct 2013
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15th Oct 2013 2:03am
18th Oct 2013 11:25pm
