On the highway, okay!
I am speaking to my phone, who's listening,
And writing what I say,
This is something we only dreamed about,
My own generation,
When we dialed up into the Internet,
Like rocket boots and teleportation,
Sure, what I am doing is dangerous,
But so is all progress,
If no one risked their lives trying new things,
Chicks would still need a dress.
We all want change,
But, it is up to us,
The world will be what it is, otherwise,
Where poems are writ with no sense of rush.,
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