That girl on the radio, if you should drive down there, if you should head on down there to destroy her, make sure you go in style. If you're gonna make your way down, through the gates of hell, you can’t take the Corolla or the Jeep Wagoneer. No. If you’re going through hell on a radio death mission you got two choices of transport my young sir. You got your flaming 1974 Gran Torrino wagon, flat black with the back doors welded shut and the rear window stuck down, that’s number one, then you got your flaming death cycle which looks like Batman’s Bat Cycle except the speedometer is in kilometres and it’s flaming. But not like the Bat Out Of Hell Meatloaf flaming bat cycle, that one was just made up. Some artist made that one up. Meatloaf was too busy making up songs which feel like someone poking you in the chest, songs which bring the roaring and make you want to head downtown, 3 miles past hell, to destroy the radio girl.
She uses too much inflection. She is her own Doppler effect. If an air-raid siren could read an ad for Sleep City Warehouse they wouldn’t need her. Like a fat worm doing the Soul-Train chug-a-chug into your brain. Oops there goes the left side, better head out.
Take the Torrino, on second thought, it’s chilly out there. I taped over the window, it should hold, and when you go through hell don’t forget to toss out a silver dollar so’s they keep the gates open for you. I’ll wait for your call, the signal it’s been done, or you can text me. Or, if the radio girl wins, if she warbles you down, sets up a harmonic resonance within your molecular structure, reducing you to a pool of burst-cell ruptured bio-mass at her feet, well then don’t worry about it, I'll get by.
She uses too much inflection. She is her own Doppler effect. If an air-raid siren could read an ad for Sleep City Warehouse they wouldn’t need her. Like a fat worm doing the Soul-Train chug-a-chug into your brain. Oops there goes the left side, better head out.
Take the Torrino, on second thought, it’s chilly out there. I taped over the window, it should hold, and when you go through hell don’t forget to toss out a silver dollar so’s they keep the gates open for you. I’ll wait for your call, the signal it’s been done, or you can text me. Or, if the radio girl wins, if she warbles you down, sets up a harmonic resonance within your molecular structure, reducing you to a pool of burst-cell ruptured bio-mass at her feet, well then don’t worry about it, I'll get by.
2 comments:
mmorning Dj's need to shut the hell up!
unleash the baboons!
Everybody knows that the world is full of stupid people.
So I got the pistol,
So I get the pesos
That seems fair.
To quote a 90s band.
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