Full Throttle

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I'm your mean city genie
and you're my bad witch from the north.
we're in this together.
no more early to bed, early to rise.
goody goody gum drop me
is out of the bottle.
anarchy rules. alakazam!

tomorrow the Brooklyn Bridge,
I'll scuttle up that arch we call the castle wall.
tell all watchers that I'm imperishable, a lone good soldier,
a holy soul on a pilgrimage.
come watch me fly. when the cops come,
they'll say yeah, yeah, yeah, and carry me away.
but first the press will take pictures.
I'll have a moment's glory.
downtown, in the holding tank,
I'll insist we rename the Empire State Building
the Daisy Duck Tower
or the Mickey Mouse House.
got my courtroom plea planned.

next week Yankee Stadium,
three thousand feet down.
fans will scream, spit,
and throw beer cans at me. no matter.
I'll cry "play ball! play ball!
I love the Bronx Bombers"
and bow in devotion.
then I'll run towards the dugout.
guards will seize me. deploy cuffs.
I'll tell them my name is King George
and I'm here to sell a new shampoo.
look for me on the TV evening news.

just bought us a 1500cc Hog,
a sleek American beauty.
we'll flee down green street.
bust out across fields.
no top-notch cop will catch us.
yes, your hot rod hero
will fire up his folly full throttle.
we'll go for wild eyes and big kisses
all night.

by the way, last night before sleep,
I swore I heard you whisper in my ear:
"go barefoot over the flames."