Please Don't Tell My Father That I Used His 1996 Honda Accord To Destroy The Town Of Willow Grove, Pennsylvania in 2002

The last time I stole my father’s keys,
I couldn’t have been older than nineteen.
I hightailed his car from New Jersey to Willow Grove
And you could not see their street signs through the smoke.
Between the dumpster diving, vandalizing
Suburban streets and disturbing the peace,
Everything we passed we smashed.
It was broken pavement and shattered glass
And you could not read the street signs through the smoke.
Just after thoughts passing all of the laws we broke.
Considered violent and reckless
By North Philly detectives,
We occupied the space where we’d never have a thing to lose.
Between the bong rips and knife hits,
Protestant booze,
Stick-and-poke tattoos;
We were just over privileged youth seeking something to do.
And I could not see my street sign through the smoke.
Just an afterthought rushing past all the laws we broke.
When the morning came, I woke in bed back at home.