Crushing Empty Cans



You Rev the engine
Benzene burns out of scene
Not kerosine but gasoline

thousand explosions per minute
You feel the power with the change of gear

There is no fear
Rolling effortlessly in the rear view mirror
You’re ontop of your game
Tyre grips the tarmac
Nostalgia hits you
Wishing to beat your chest
For you’ve done your best

Not long ago you were only wishing
Now youre behind the wheel Spinning

Winding your window down
Cold air hits you rushing
Moving faster than thousand feet per minute

Tyre crushes empty cans on the tarmac
Reality hits you!
Your country man got to sell empty cans for a feed
This is Port Moresby in your face…
With little less than the more it promises

Be grateful…
Don’t be not a fool!


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