tiny hurricanes
dustbowls
beneath my boots
slow-motion thud
of heel and dry red mud
yeah, they bounce a little

a natural sway
the slightest shift
of snug black fabric
nestled in the cleft
the slightest sheen
of golden flesh
yeah, they bounce a little

twirling tendons
clinging to curves
flirting with the beat
a few remnants of their
rendezvous with the sun
still fluttering in the heat
of this dustbowl breeze
and yeah, they bounce a little

it's been a long time
maybe for some
it's been a good time
but the vacation's over
the hiatus is complete
and here I am again
your golden-girl
ready for you to love
or hate

shiny leather seats
such a warm embrace
the welcome
of sun-baked vinyl dash
large, circular dials
winking at me
teasing me
"Let's go girl.
Can you still do it?
Make it purr, baby."

top down, the motor roars
being back is like
my old '86 firebird
learning to fly
all over again
maybe it's been too long
and these wings are rusty

but downshift, a flicker
of motion in the floorboard
the pedal meeting the carpet
in a long awaited kiss
just give me a few miles
just let me feel the sky
let me bounce a little
and maybe you'll see me
fly.