we jump in the truck after a long night.
ben turns the key and the engine roars to life.
the boy I've always felt something for.
the boy I've always felt something for.
music blairs from the speakers as we pull onto the road.
the speedometer slowly rises.
the music slowly grows louder.
the wind slowly grows windier.
my hair turns loose and goes wild.
the windows are open.
hands are soaring through the air.
we are free.
our two guy friends catch up behind us.
threatening to pass us in their small beat up car.
we go faster.
the corn fields are now just a blurr.
quickly replaced by houses.
we pull into the Tasty Treat.
laughing and tripping as we walk up to order.
one of my friends is working there.
she stares as we come nearer.
the jealously slowly rises in her eyes.
because she knows.
we are free.
we sit on the bed of ben's truck as we eat our ice cream.
laughing until we cry.
ice cream cones are being shoved into each other's faces.
being knocked on the ground.
we don't care when people stare at us.
when we're trying to see how loud the truck and car can get.
we simply fasten our seat belts.
the music grows loud.
the speedometer inches higher.
we are free.
we speed down the road.
the speedometer is higher than before.
we pull into pebblebrooke.
we don't care if the seven people that live there will be mad.
just because they have huge houses.
doesn't mean they can stop us from having fun.
we drive down the only street.
interrupted by a cul-de-sac.
we begin to drive in endless circles.
our two friends are right behind us in their old car.
my best friend leans out the window beside me.
her blond hair whips around her face.
her brother, ben, shouts out his open window.
as he pushes the peddle harder.
we are free.
a man comes on his porch.
he's an eye doctor.
he begins to wave his shirt in the air.
he's mad.
we get the heck out of there.
we laugh.
until we're crying with excitement.
we don't care if we're going 90 miles per hour.
we don't care if the cops catch us.
because.
we.
are
free.
laughing until we cry.
ice cream cones are being shoved into each other's faces.
being knocked on the ground.
we don't care when people stare at us.
when we're trying to see how loud the truck and car can get.
we simply fasten our seat belts.
the music grows loud.
the speedometer inches higher.
we are free.
we speed down the road.
the speedometer is higher than before.
we pull into pebblebrooke.
we don't care if the seven people that live there will be mad.
just because they have huge houses.
doesn't mean they can stop us from having fun.
we drive down the only street.
interrupted by a cul-de-sac.
we begin to drive in endless circles.
our two friends are right behind us in their old car.
my best friend leans out the window beside me.
her blond hair whips around her face.
her brother, ben, shouts out his open window.
as he pushes the peddle harder.
we are free.
a man comes on his porch.
he's an eye doctor.
he begins to wave his shirt in the air.
he's mad.
we get the heck out of there.
we laugh.
until we're crying with excitement.
we don't care if we're going 90 miles per hour.
we don't care if the cops catch us.
because.
we.
are
free.
