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Psychological Despair

By Wild Bill
Copyright © 1999 All rights reserved

A pickup filled with hooligans
Was ahead runnin' amuck
And I thought it in my interest
To pass that beat up truck.

So I pulled back on the throttle
Shiftin' to a lower gear
When out the drivers' window
Is tossed a can of beer!

At first I thought it refuse
A soldier fully spent
But then the can exploded
At the end of it's decent!

I leaned her over to the left
Pushed the bars down to the right,
When to my disapproval,
My rubber failed to bight!

She drifted 'cross the fog line
Makin' for the ditch
Then the last thing I remember was
"Ain't this just a bitch…?"

I awoke a little ragged,
With some road rash here and there.
My nose was pointed to the South,
I'd lost a little hear.

I'd need a little body work
To straighten out my dents,
A little soap and water
To take off tire prints.

But then I got to thinkin'
'bout the evil of their act.
Why I'll be scared for life
For the reverence that they lacked!

The injury to myself and my bike
I can repair,
But to waste a can of beer,
Is psychological despair!