What to Eat, What to Drink, What to Leave for Poison

Here’s $100, ’cause i’ll be coming back the other way

53 hErE’s $100, ’CausE i’LL BE Coming BaCk thE othEr Way Jack Johnson There are men you can stop, some you can slow, but I’m neither. And this car, it isn’t even a hint of what makes me so fast some kid-glove wielding bulk of white men’s pride couldn’t hope to knock stillness into me. But now this sheriff thinks he’s got a shot. He wants to know where I’m headed, driving so quick my touring car conjures a storm. I’m the eye, touching what I damn well please. Yes, even this girl, my girl, her pale skin, just like my money, resting near my thigh. I give it to him, his fifty buck fine, pay him, then hit him again. He won’t need to swing out on my road another time. This page intentionally left blank. a This page intentionally left blank. ...