Rebel SoulsI can still see the headlights from the convertible she used to drive,
radio blaring, wind in her hair, made her feel alive.
70, 80, 90 miles per hour
pushin that car just to feel the power.
Standing up in our seats as we sped over the dam,
two young, butch rebels running as if we were on the lam.
I can still see the blood from her very first tattoo,
skull and cross bones proudly stating, BORN TO LOSE.
70, 80, 90 beats per minute
pushin that needle in just past the limit.
Standing in the ally, our cigarettes lit,
two young, butch rebels livin just to forget.
I can still see the red from the back of her father's hand,
acting as if it didn't hurt, tryin to be a man.
70, 80, 90 seconds in all
pushin back the tears, tryin not to fall.
Standing in that house, splashin gas all around
two young, butch rebels tryin not to make a sound.
I can still see the spark from that solitary match,
striking it on the sidewalk, praying it would catch.
78, 80, 90 beats then run
pushin the barrel to her head, the trigger on the gun.
Standing there in shock as her father aims at me,
two young, butch rebels, finally livin free.