Rollin rollin rollin

Rollin rollin rollin
Rollin rollin rollin
Rollin rollin rollin

Of slot cars, street cars, trains on tracks, governors on go-karts…

Rollin rollin rollin
Though the streams are swollen
Keep them doggies rolling
Rawhide
Rain and wind and weather
Hell bent for leather
Wishing my girl was by my side
All the things Im missin
Good victuals, love and kissin
Are waiting at the end of my ride

We’re ‘led’ thru life, by ourselves. As we’re led, we’re cast into routine. Pavlov. We get up, and do it allover again the next day, and the next. Soon, it’s our way. Our slot, our train track, and we’re governed.

Move em on (head em up)
Head em up (move em up)
Move em on (head em up)
Rawhide
Cut em out (ride em in)
Ride em in (cut em out)
Cut em out (ride em in)
Rawhide

Me, I like off road, but I’ve been traveling the tracks too. This morning, Maynard was an idiot. Hey, it’s ok for me to say, he really was. I (‘daddy’) did his laundry at the Laundromat, and when I returned I received a tongue lashing because “I have THREE pair of work pants, you musta lost one… I’ll have to pay for it… you idiot you.” (I know. But it ain’t worth it. He doesn’t get it, yes, I realize “for behoogety sakes, make the lad do his own then he’ll soon ‘get it’.”)…

So I dream of getting off the damn train tracks. Yes, I remember what happens to slot cars when they get off track. That “tit” (post) thingy that keeps ‘em in the track, going ‘smoothly’ on course (routine) – if it becomes dislodged from the tracks, the ‘tit’ keeps the front tires up in the air, and no matter how hard you hold down the ‘go’ button on the controller – the tires just spin and it doesn’t motivate anywheres.

Keep movin movin movin
Though their disapprovin
Keep them doggies moving
Rawhide
Dont try to understand them
Just rope, throw and brand them
Soon well be living high and wide
My hearts calculating
My true love will be waiting
Be waiting at the end of my ride

I don’t care if I risk that tit/post keeping my tires from not spinning on the pavement. I’d just liketa ‘get off center’. Go. We all Dusty Springfield (wishin’ and hopin’) our way through life – and rare are the times we jump and do something we’ve always wanted to. The day will come when we find ourselves flat on our back (like recently my uncle) – and we’ll have to ask ourselves “Were you governed? Did you lead life on the train tracks? Was it all a continual “head ‘em up move ‘em out” and you never strayed from that course?”

Move em up (head em up)
Head em up (move em on)
Move em on (head em up)
Rawhide
Cut em out (ride em in)
Ride em in (cut em out)
Cut em out (ride em in)
Rawhide
Yah!
Move em on (head em up)
Head em up (move em on)
Move em on (head em up)
Rawhide
Cut em out (ride em in)
Ride em in (cut em out)
Cut em out (ride em in)
Rawhide
Yah!
Rollin rollin rollin
Rollin rollin rollin
Yah!
Rollin rollin rollin
Rollin rollin rollin
Yah!
Rawhide
Yah! rawhide!

I wanna be that ‘cow’ that strays. I wanna venture. Once in my life I quit a job on principle – and I mowed grass at a local golf course. A wonderful time in my life. Off the track. Not governed. I didn’t care who looked at me with scorn – I enjoyed what I did.

So I vote ‘dare’. I dare ya to get off the tracks of everyday life upon occasion and do somea the things you’ve always wanted to – before the ‘slot car’ simply wears out. Before the ‘doggies’ reach the end of the trail – and soon you’ll be on a Piggly Wiggly shelf.

The hell kinda dreams/dares do I want? I’d like my own place. I’d like to try Florida. I’d liketa mebbe even write a book. I’d liketa have a place I so loved – that I’d decorate it stupidly with MU junk, my own ‘leftfield’ style – with the attitude “who gives a damn what others think, it’s ‘me’.”

Crap. Gotta go now. Work beckons. Head em up (move em on), Move em on (head em up).

This everyday same ole same ole is giving me a raw hide. Here’s a glass to (one step at a time) jumping off the restrictive track of life, going one step beyond “wishin’ and hopin’”- and dare, dream. DO.

YAH! RAWHIDE! Love, Victurd.