Living In My Limousine - Bill Nelson

Frozen by the forward speed,

I’m running from the outside world,

Making tracks from zone to zone,

Nowhere left to call my own,

Always burning up the miles,

Real events just pass me by,

Locked inside my limousine,

See my face behind the screen …

Something living …

There’s something living,

Living in my limousine.

One hand on the steering wheel,

I’m listening to the dynaflow,

Counting moments in my mind,

Like a traveller in time,

Passing fields of clouds and trees,

Water gardens in the rain,

Sculpted by velocity,

Everything appears the same.

Something living …

There’s something living,

Living in my limousine.