Reminds

 

me of my buddy...him and his clan were racers back in the day...:-).

"That pure American brother, dull-eyed and empty-faced

Races Sundays in Jersey in a Chevy stock super eight

He rides her low on the hip, on the side he's got Bound For Glory in red, white and blue flash paint

He leans on the hood telling racin' stories, the kids call him Jimmy The Saint

Well that blaze and noise boy, he's gunnin' that bitch loaded to blastin' point

He rides headfirst into a hurricane and disappears into a point

And there's nothin' left but some blood where the body fell

That is, nothin' left that you could sell

Just junk all across the horizon, a real highwayman's farewell

And I said, "Hey kid, you think that's oil? Man, that ain't oil, that's blood"

I wonder what he was thinking when he hit that storm

Or was he just lost in the flood?"