C
Corvus Corvax
Guest
It's a beautiful, slightly cool, slightly hazy morning as I sprint out onto Riverside drive on the
fix. The rush of late-for-work pinheads is over, and traffic is pretty light. That doesn't stop the
odd idiot from pulling some stupid stunt. I fall into an even, loose spin.
Nothin proper about ya propaganda Fools follow the rules when the set commands ya They said it was
blue When the blood was red That's how you got a bullet blasted through ya head
Onto the Greenway at 72nd St., moving fast. Out past the Dept. of Sanitation pier, parallel to the
West Side Highway, full of jockeying, honking SUVs.
Blasted through ya head Blasted through ya head
Past the Intrepid, huge yellow ribbon enveloping the bow, precious few tourists milling around.
Straight across the street, Falun Gong protesters meditate outside the Chinese Embassy.
I give a shout out to the living dead Who stood and watched as the Feds cold centralized So serene
on the screen You was mesmerized Cellular phones soundin' a death tone Corporations cold Turn ya to
stone before ya realize
I am warmed up, cruising on the super-smooth one-speed. Past Chelsea Piers, where tourists come for
the chance to hit a bucket of golf balls in Manhattan. I wiggle through the chicane, and even now
pull in my breath as I hit the straightaway. Fast down the island.
They load the clip in omnicolor They pack the 9, they fire it at prime time Sleeping gas, every home
was like Alcatraz
A left onto Chambers Street, and I'm in the fun. Chambers is always a mess, and today is no
exception. Some shithead yuppie careens around me, horn blaring. I'll be seeing him in a minute.
Stop at the light, wait for the cross traffic. Light turns green, and ten seconds later I'm up to
the back of a conga line of cars and box trucks. I slip to the left, ride the double yellow down to
the light, past the hapless yuppie who was honking at me a block back. Hi!
Just victims of the in-house drive-by They say jump, you say how high
The yuppie is behind me again, leaning on his horn, trying to pressure
me. I'm moving at maybe 18 mph on the fix, and a van driver throws open his door, right in my face.
Had I been six inches further right, I would have been in the hospital.
No escape from the mass mind rape Play it again jack and then rewind the tape Play it again and
again and again Until ya mind is locked in.
The yuppie pulls around me then screeches to a halt fifty yards later in a line of a dozen cars. I
glide by to the left, make the corner at City Hall, and never see him again. I climb up onto the
Brooklyn Bridge, and take in the city, the Chrysler Building and the Empire State Building rising
through the haze to the north, the downtown skyline, the Statue of Liberty.
Believin' all the lies that they're tellin' ya Buying all the products that they're sellin' ya They
say jump Ya say how high Ya brain dead
Instead of heading straight back to the Greenway, I head up Hudson, just for the sport. As usual,
the bike lane means "double parking zone", and I am out in the center with the traffic headed for
the Holland Tunnel. I hock a big loogie on the H2 hanging out into the bike lane.
Just victims of the in-house drive-by They say jump, you say how high
Back on Riverside uptown, some nitwit in a Lexus SUV pulls out into stopped traffic, completely
blocking the northbound lane. I skid my rear as I stop next to his open window. "Give me a break,
man!" I say. The SUV driver is immensely obese, must be four hundred pounds at
I'll still be riding.
Ya standin' in line Believing the lies Ya bowin' down to the flag Ya got a bullet in ya head
I ride home, suddenly serene.
CC
fix. The rush of late-for-work pinheads is over, and traffic is pretty light. That doesn't stop the
odd idiot from pulling some stupid stunt. I fall into an even, loose spin.
Nothin proper about ya propaganda Fools follow the rules when the set commands ya They said it was
blue When the blood was red That's how you got a bullet blasted through ya head
Onto the Greenway at 72nd St., moving fast. Out past the Dept. of Sanitation pier, parallel to the
West Side Highway, full of jockeying, honking SUVs.
Blasted through ya head Blasted through ya head
Past the Intrepid, huge yellow ribbon enveloping the bow, precious few tourists milling around.
Straight across the street, Falun Gong protesters meditate outside the Chinese Embassy.
I give a shout out to the living dead Who stood and watched as the Feds cold centralized So serene
on the screen You was mesmerized Cellular phones soundin' a death tone Corporations cold Turn ya to
stone before ya realize
I am warmed up, cruising on the super-smooth one-speed. Past Chelsea Piers, where tourists come for
the chance to hit a bucket of golf balls in Manhattan. I wiggle through the chicane, and even now
pull in my breath as I hit the straightaway. Fast down the island.
They load the clip in omnicolor They pack the 9, they fire it at prime time Sleeping gas, every home
was like Alcatraz
A left onto Chambers Street, and I'm in the fun. Chambers is always a mess, and today is no
exception. Some shithead yuppie careens around me, horn blaring. I'll be seeing him in a minute.
Stop at the light, wait for the cross traffic. Light turns green, and ten seconds later I'm up to
the back of a conga line of cars and box trucks. I slip to the left, ride the double yellow down to
the light, past the hapless yuppie who was honking at me a block back. Hi!
Just victims of the in-house drive-by They say jump, you say how high
The yuppie is behind me again, leaning on his horn, trying to pressure
me. I'm moving at maybe 18 mph on the fix, and a van driver throws open his door, right in my face.
Had I been six inches further right, I would have been in the hospital.
No escape from the mass mind rape Play it again jack and then rewind the tape Play it again and
again and again Until ya mind is locked in.
The yuppie pulls around me then screeches to a halt fifty yards later in a line of a dozen cars. I
glide by to the left, make the corner at City Hall, and never see him again. I climb up onto the
Brooklyn Bridge, and take in the city, the Chrysler Building and the Empire State Building rising
through the haze to the north, the downtown skyline, the Statue of Liberty.
Believin' all the lies that they're tellin' ya Buying all the products that they're sellin' ya They
say jump Ya say how high Ya brain dead
Instead of heading straight back to the Greenway, I head up Hudson, just for the sport. As usual,
the bike lane means "double parking zone", and I am out in the center with the traffic headed for
the Holland Tunnel. I hock a big loogie on the H2 hanging out into the bike lane.
Just victims of the in-house drive-by They say jump, you say how high
Back on Riverside uptown, some nitwit in a Lexus SUV pulls out into stopped traffic, completely
blocking the northbound lane. I skid my rear as I stop next to his open window. "Give me a break,
man!" I say. The SUV driver is immensely obese, must be four hundred pounds at
I'll still be riding.
Ya standin' in line Believing the lies Ya bowin' down to the flag Ya got a bullet in ya head
I ride home, suddenly serene.
CC
btw did you know when I spell checked this... your name came up as
