That's done by losing you,
It can happen driving your Ferrari,
Painted that flat black hue,
Bought to dally along the seaside road,
Off the Amalfi Coast,
To the villa that you keep for yourself,
Though it's not the one that you adore most,
When you look to your right past your blonde guest,
In the passenger seat,
'Who is this person steering with my hands?
And will we ever meet?'
Just one turn right,
Drive off the ocean cliff,
To prove the real you cannot drive at all,
Nor care you how opulently you live.
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