Highway 90
Jane Jensen
I'm driving down Highway 90.
Going back for the hair of that dog that bit me.
I'm gonna bite back while I can.
Are you my boy? Are you my man?
Driving down Highway 90.
And the road becomes a boy, to a bullet, to a brain.
The sky, all of this gray matter looks like rain.
90 90 90 90.
Driving down Highway 90, I think about a girl, she lives so fast.
She coulda been a Super Sonic Chica.
If she could get off her ass.
Driving down Highway 90.
I dream about a day at a comic book store.
I didn't wanna be a groupie.
But I guess I am a comic book whore.
90 90 90 90.
Driving down Highway 90.
Lock my up in a disco and throw away the key.
I wanna be Donna Summer.
But I'll bet she wouldn't wanna be me.
Driving down Highway 90.
Highway 90.
90 90 90 90.
Driving down Highway 90.
Driving down Highway 90,
Got vivarin in my body and a soda by my side.
I'll also be a freak this time next week.
Oh, I don't wanna think - just drive.
Driving down Highway 90.
I'm a fish in a 4-lane ghost car scream.
Now just stay on my good side.
This car is mean.
90 90 90 90.
Buddha does commend me on my auto zen.
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