so nice, really nice to lean
on this bucket seats
warm glove over my body
soft as you could imagine
in concert with reeving engine
cradled by loving melody
i could sleep in here, no time
cool weather, pulsing breeze
highway open; abandon airport
it's me against a radar from hill
he is not looking now writing report
calling his wife for late dinner tonight
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem