Georgia spring night honeysuckle sweet. Podunk town between two railroad lines. Stop light. Train coming.

Locomotive lights up two guys in a big black car in the next lane. The driver drums on his steering wheel.

You recognize the rhythm from the radio so you crank the volume over the train's roar. The driver flashes you a Hollywood grin and turns his knob past eleven.

Page's guitar wails over the train's roar and you air riff for all you're worth. The guys shoot you horn signs.

Last you see is red tail lights in your rear view mirror. Rock on.

A/N:

This is a scenario that keeps popping into my head when I'm driving.