44 by Marquis E. Pannell

The hill is comin’ up way too fast, and I know it,
So I feather the brake pedal of my brand new beige Buick Regal,
You see I have absolutely no idea how much the shocks can take,
But the effortless smile on my lady’s face convinces me to find out.
It doesn’t surface quite as often as it did when we were younger,
That smile of hers
The hill is comin’ up fast, and I know it,
Mid 40s, 3 kids and a reasonable mortgage later, things’ve changed.
So I feather the brake pedal a little more.
I know she loves the weightless, stomach-turning feeling you get when
You come over a low hill doin’ about 35,
And I’ll be damned if the rattling I heard from the rear passenger axle
Isn’t getting louder by the second.
Should I put my foot all the way down this time, or just coast?
Awww, to hell with it, I’m worryin’ too much, it’s a new car . . .
Besides, we’re at the hill now, might as well expose
my own lopsided grin,
Put my palms on the brown leather dashboard, and
Savor the wind as it whips through my hair
Because it’s all downhill from here.
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