LYRIC FOR SALE

By Edward Kenny

How fast that white impala,
With summer in my hair,
But in the rear-view mirror,
The picture was so clear.

The adolescent gallows,
The adult in a hood,
Can't hold them off forever,
But I did what I could.

And if I could talk to Johnny,
He'd show me some tricks.
How to make it in the city,
A boy from the sticks.
Yeah, if I could talk to Johnny,
Not just as a fan,
And not as some Rupert Pupkin,
Just us man to man.

I saw the sun was setting,
Just as I hit the beach,
Just holding on to freedom,
Just barely out of reach.

How could I win the lady,
And not destroy the fool?
How could I leave them laughing,
Still be the guy so cool?

And if I could talk to Johnny,
Thank you Mr. "C,"
If I never talked to Johnny,
He sure spoke to me.
Yeah, if I could talk to Johnny,
Not a boy, a man,
You didn't really die lonely,
Or without a plan.