Ode To The Wildcat…

454 and loaded for bear,
The gas tank near empty, but who really Cares,
It turns out it IS the size of the board,
And cruisin’ these speeds, we yell out for more…
Brake stands we all win, the cop-shop for races,
We go 0 to 60 and hardly leave us no traces,
The Boys In Blue COULD catch us if tried,
But our fumes they do sniff as we wave bye-bye-bye…
Sure, the cars of today, the tanks are all full,
Or the batteries they hum on those Lilly-assed eco-bulls,
But give me a 8-cylinder 454, and I’ll give you a guy who is not surely poor.