Joyride In A Junkyard
We stole the keys to a rusted out sedan that should have retired when flip phones were still a miracle and gas was not a heavy habit
Paint peeled like old sunburn, windows stuck half down
radio hanging by a wire
but the engine coughed awake like some old dog that still wanted in
The lot was full of dead machines
stacked metal skeletons and busted glass under a bruised sky that smelled like rain and old oil and teenage regret
Perfect place for a couple of freaks who never passed inspection to find out how much damage this old heap could get.
You rode shotgun with your bare feet on the dash
eyeliner smeared, grin too wide
screaming over the engine like it was an angry god
I took the wheel, hands shaking
not from fear of wrecking but from the sick rush of driving something nobody wanted almost more than I had
* We zigzagged between rows of crushed dreams
bumpers like broken teeth, headlights staring blind
reflecting the mess we were in
Somewhere outside the fence
real people had real jobs and real plans; we had this metal trash and a pile of wrong turns that felt like a win.
Every warning we ever got about staying safe and acting normal echoed in the trunk like loose tools in a rattle can
We answered with laughter and a chorus of “fuck safe
we tried that
it tasted like cardboard and dull little plans
” If the world wrote us off as salvage
we decided to drive anyway till the tank ran dry or we ran out of luck.
This is a joyride in a junkyard
pedal down in a car that should be dead
Heartbeats louder than the pistons
singing punk songs we barely knew by heart
If the wheels come off we will ride the fire
screaming “we were here” into the dark
Joyride in a junkyard, broken kids leaving tire marks.
We carved our names into the fog on the windshield
dumb drawings that would vanish with the heat of our breath
Rolled past a busted pickup that looked exactly like the one your father drove before he swore you were a waste and left you for dead
You flipped it off with both hands
let out a noise that was half laugh, half sob
then went quiet when the memory clawed at your throat
I reached over
grabbed the wheel with one hand and your fist with the other
said “if we crash today, at least we got one good
loud note.”
This place smelled like endings
like last chapters that never got to print
Yet under all the rot and rust
the air felt like a desperate, wild hint
We were writing our names in it with our dirty shoes
no long permission slip, just the sound of pure intent.
This is a joyride in a junkyard
pedal down in a car that should be dead
Heartbeats louder than the pistons
singing punk songs we barely knew by heart
If the wheels come off we will ride the fire
screaming “we were here” into the dark
Joyride in a junkyard, broken kids leaving tire marks.
One day they will tow this heap away, crush it flat
forget the night it carried two outcasts through a graveyard of rust
Some bored worker will light a smoke
watch the metal fold
never know there was once a backseat full of shouted secrets and honest trust
They will never hear your wild confession about wanting to live somewhere nobody knew your name or your shame
They will never feel the way my chest broke open when you said “fuck it
maybe I deserve better” and meant it for the first time
starting a new trick.
This is a joyride in a junkyard
maybe we never left the edge of town at all
Maybe we just spun circles in the dirt and called it freedom to dodge the weight of the next call
Doesn’t matter
in that moment we were more alive than the smooth
clean highways full of people half asleep
Joyride in a junkyard
swear to every scar that this is one promise we could keep.
If the world thinks we are scrap, fine
we will race along the fence until the engine gives
Joyride in a junkyard, fucked up and laughing
that’s just how we live.