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My Lucky Numbers
They gave me the keys
To the open road
When
I turned sixteen,
My girlfriend gave me a kiss.
Now we had a mobile room
All to us in the night shade.
I finally
earned the right to go off
And kill a man for my country,
Or to make love with him if I wanted
Though I didn’t,
When
I turned eighteen.
My parents could have kicked me out
But they showed me their love,
Got me some tickets to scratch,
My
friends were the ones
Who bought me magazines made of centerfolds
With some cigars to smoke
At eighteen, both made
me sick.
Empty bottles taped
To both my hands
I still cannot remember
Where it was but only when,
Because
I was twenty-one.
They gave me the keys again
At twenty-five I was insured
So they took a chance on me.
I
claimed open roads
Never seen before and joked
That at thirty five
I would run for president
Though I wouldn’t
win
Unless I was forty three.
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