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By Ginger Blonde (11/30/1999)

Coastin' down the interstate of life,
Four lanes going my way,
Feeling like a beat-up Hyundai
With one headlight cast against the dark.

"Pick one lane," they say,
"And stick to it.  Changing lanes is dangerous."
But ah, the freedom in crossing that dotted line,
Not knowing if it is the better path
And not caring, just speeding down that stretch of road
With the pedal to the floor
And my eyes on what's ahead.

I hear the bitter words of a long love
And flinch against a tirade on other drivers.
I listen to the words of so many artists
Floating through my mind while I
Smoke a high school diploma.
The smoky tendrils float up my face
And into my eyes and I'm blind.

Blind to the heartache
Blind to the changes,
Seeing only the old days
Filled with insults and insanity
When I was myself and not the image I made to suit the world.

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