Start To Stop

White knuckles embrace the wheel of control,
I punch the gas to making the engine take it’s toll.
Faster and faster the wheels spin in constant motion,
As the oil rubs metal lubricating it like lotion.
My gloves hold tight and my eyes watch the road ahead,
One false move at 260 miles it is I that will lie down dead.
Still I do this race after race to try and regain that cash prize,
And I know I will do this until the road see me to my demise.
It is a thrill, a lust, and a passion that will never fade,
Riding hard on the black top mile after mile making the grade.
I have no family of flesh or bone,
For when I die in this car I know my life to be alone.
So I push hard until the checker flag is finally mine,
And that night after all has said their peace I will celebrate with wine.
No woman, no man just the a metal machine that gets me from start to stop,
An on going road with no drop.
This is my life and I wanted it just for me,
For this is the only thing that will set my spirit free.

Written By
Robert Lee Niswander
Copyright 2005