Chevy rolls through lion country, Leaves are growing through the glass, Roots are tangled in the dashboard, Time forgot this metal mass. Golden manes are gaining slowly, Eyes like fire, breath like steam, But Chevy’s heart is bark and memory, Runnin’ on a forest dream. Wheels are thumping over thunder, Vines are curling round the gear, Lions roar but never wonder, Why the car won’t show its fear. It’s not chrome, it’s not clean, It’s a tree that learned to flee, Rolling fast through lion’s land, With no map and no decree. Chased by kings with golden manes, Down a road that bends and breaks, Chevy’s soul is roots and rain, Runnin’ wild for memory’s sake. Let the lions chase the leaves… We were never meant to grieve.
