Covington
Cex
To share the bread that makes us live, is that so odd?
To experience a meal through the car
You leave it chained up like a beast out in the lot
We plow it through the walls of our restaurants
Because without these creatures nobody moves
and we'd all be back to foraging for food
So we celebrate the surplus we have wrought
by our ability to travel where we want
And lettuce shouldn't just lie on a sandwich,
it mingles with the pieces of broken glass
spread all over the hood of your car and scattered on the dash.
Beneath the shattered plastic seats and tables,
a sneezeguard gasps under the weight of your tires,
and a napkin might float through your headlights
When you are eating you are keeping you alive
We feel our will made real
through the wheel of the vehicle.
The car is our host,
we shall not want!
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