Night Drive (Thru-Babylon) - Model 500

Okay…

Well … I’m driving in a black on black in black Porsche 924

I’m tempting fate a little bit more

My head is filled with techno beat, Metro Times, Face magazine

Shadows out of time and space

Measure out the area of no place

When there she stands

There she stands

Contemplating contemptuously, the inferior designs

And the outmoded, underpowered and otherwise obsolete lifeforms

Say what baby check this out

How could she possibly walk in those shoes?

Excuse me, but isn’t black leather micro mini skirt a bit much?

I mean, it really is overkill, isn’t it?

She says nothing

The lights of passing vehicles reflecting in her mirrored sunglasses

She looks at her watch, and I can see the liquid crystal display reflected,

dancing where her eyes should be

The Porsche, not unlike a snake, sliding down the side of glass aquarium

She slams the door behind her

And she reaches over

and turns the steering wheel

all the

way

And she says nothing the whole time

Just sort of sneers at you

And you see your face

the distorted reflection of your face in her mirrored sunglasses