The Hit of Conicoid Figurines and Ensuing the Dispersal on the Zebral Place
I'm watching a lollipop on the crossing
The crowd of kiddies
I tread on the accelerator, like Landa
I turn left
Wheels crush of innocents
The icing squirt from trunks
The motor roars in a frenzy
The exhaust throws up waste products
It's pretty cracking under wheels
Maybe I'll go into a spin
It makes a sportsman out of me
To play skittles at hundred.
