Cars
Steve
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"Finally," Steve Randle thought, as he heard the engine roar into life. He had been working on the 1952 Chevy (A/N: I know nothing about cars, or what was made when or whatever, so if there is no '52 Chevy, I'm very sorry, but let's just use our imagination.) for over a week now. He sat there in the drivers seat, hand clutching the steering wheel, thinking.
Here in my car
I feel safest of all
I can lock all my doors
It's the only way to live
In cars
Here in my car
I can only receive
I can listen to you
It keeps me stable for days
In cars
No one understood why Steve loved cars so much. Cars meant many things to him. One was freedom. He could go anywhere he wanted, and do anything he pleased, and the car wouldn't say a yankees dime about it. Cars also meant he was in control. The car never disagreed on where Steve wanted to go, or how he was going to get there. The car didn't care if another cars boyfriend got them something better than he had. Cars would always listen to what Steve said, cause Steve was the boss of the car, the only thing he felt he could really be in control of.
Here in my car
Where the image breaks down
Will you visit me please
If I open my door
In cars
Here in my car
You know I've started to think
About leaving tonight
Although nothing seems right
In cars
Okay so there's Steve's. It was kinda hard for me to write it. But I definitely will write another on, better one hopefully. Okay my next challenge...Two-Bit, and a hangover to end all hangovers!! Mwuahahhaha. Oh yeah as always, please review and you shall be rewarded!!