by George E. Clark
( Chorus: )
Two thousand pounds of Japanese steel,
A hundred thousand miles
Like yoga on wheels.
I like my car fine.
I love how it feels.
My soul’s unattached
And my fate is unsealed.
One slip of the toe
One pen on the floor
And this “little” car
Isn’t mine any more.
It’s wrapped round a tree.
I’m flung out the door.
My implement of destruction.
Impatience is mine.
Thus sayeth the Lord.
I’m getting to work,
My foot to the floor.
I go round to pass.
What are they stopping for?
My implement of destruction.
One foggy day
On I-64
I’m due at the bank.
They’re closing at four.
So what happens next?
I’m really not sure.
My implement of destruction.
Most of the time
I’m driving around,
I try to relax,
My tension unwound.
That’s just the time
That bad things go down.
My implement of destruction.
Now if you know me
I’m meek and I’m mild,
But I get in this box and
I might kill a child.
A tiny percentage;
The obit is filed.
My implement of destruction.
GeoClark 