In the spirit to uphold the decorum of the forum as propagated by Wobbles, I would love to share a poem.
So gradual in those asphalt was the going
Of the age it seemed that the engines are growling
When the traffic faded in the distance were actually not
Leaving us even as the we are awake but not the cops
Glittered on the roads it appeared then that the clear ahead
Opening into the highway was a long vast straight
To have and keep and that the speed we could not chime
And the cool air we could not hold had come to be there all the time
For us and would never be gone and that the axle
We did not hear was not turning when the cars paddle
Coughed in the engine bay and rolled out echoing
First thing into the fast lane and the only car rolling
In the distance rumbled and went into its dusty
Mutterings before heading out of its R34 rusty
Into the forty tiang and the shadow of the rain tree
We did not see that road blocks flashing and the running spree
Of their cries were fast in the spokes of the hollow
Wheels that was turning and turning while taking our sorrows
All away as one with the tyres of the vee-eight cylinders
where the wheels of chassis were stacked like days in calendars
Coming and going all at once we did not hear
The rim of the hour in whatever wind our cars shear
Or racing all day we thought it was there and would stay
It was only as the dark nights lengthened on its day
Exhausts and the shadows reached out farther and farther
From everything that we began to listen for burnt rubber
Might be escaping us and we heard high voices ringing
And then the cops after dark broke the silence screeching