Off the blocks away I went, many years ago.
A nitrous oxide bulldozer driven by a freak.
Rip it up and turn it round, spin it to and fro.
Chew it up and spit it out, a year is like a week.
A million miles up high and wide, ten times more again.
The edge is gone and won't come back, the floor has dropped away.
Inside my skull a different world, full of enemies and friends.
Grinds and shrieks a constant thrum but there's nowhere else to play.
Ahead I go, the bridges burnt all disappear behind.
Pain and blackness fill the void, nowhere to go but over.
Screaming rusty monorail, so hard for me to find.
Anything but blackened pain, in the nitrous oxide dozer.
Brett A. Jones March 2010
