Pleathery jackets and greasy, slick and spiked hair just hollers the year of 1981 like the grunge-rock the crowd jumps up and down to like they're dumb. The grooviness of the taxicab driver soothes the nerves of a chick in stains with a temper. He doesn't know why she is dressed like Cinderella; he just wants to shag and smoke. She "whatevers" the mediocre bloke. Thinks he's better than a slice of bread to a chick like herself. She thinks he must be recked in the mind, and not just because everything she lays a finger on breaks. No, she's innocent of THIS tragedy. But she won't be innocent for long. Our princess will escape the "prince's" drive to get a good lay, but in the meantime, her driver will take her on a ride she will never forget. Sadly, there is no difference between the two men.
*I feel like I need to write more, but I cannot decide what. I'll practice, though. Feedback??
P.S. Reading it back, it seems like some of this rhymes, but rhyming was the farthest thing from my mind when I wrote this, aka it was not intentional.
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