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Listen my children and you shall hear,
Of the midnight ride made in top gear.

Driving in city traffic is not very satisfying,
Stopping and going causes my clutch to be frying.

The roads are crowded from dawn until well after dark,
So during the day I don't even try to leave the car park.

I use the daylight hours to work on my car,
It is only after midnight that I like to roam far.

You may not think my little car can do much,
But the mods I have made make it faster quite a bunch.

It has faded paint and unassuming style,
But the way it performs gives me a smile.

I have loaded the engine with hot performance parts,
But there is no exhaust can, the type that only makes farts.

No radio, no A/C and a ride that is rough,
To be my passenger you have to be tough.

I wait unit late, well after Leno and Dave,
All that comedy video on the Tivo I will save.

I fire up the car but don't rev it too loud,
I would rather not attract the attention of a crowd.

And once it is warm I slip out of my 'hood,
I don't want to upset the locals, so I try to drive good.

Hitting the highway I get up to speed.
Oh darn, before I left I should have first pee'd.

I pull off the street to take care of the bladder,
Then back on the road to the heart of the matter.

But this is not just any ride, this trip has a reason,
To do something nice for others, because 'tis the season.

To the 24 hour 'mart store out on the edge of town,
Where you can shop in the wee hours in your nightgown.

I've come to buy gifts for girls and for boys,
Who otherwise may not get any holiday toys.

I fill up my car, it is hard to see out past the packages,
I can barely mover the shifter 'cause the cabin is the packed tight as sausages.

Now it is off to the local spot where the toys are collected,
The toys are sorted and then distributed to kids who get neglected.

There is a place like this in every town large and small,
In my city it is a special spot, not too far from the Mall.

It is very conveniently located across from the donut shop,
Some call it the Police Station, yeah it is the home of the cops.

I haul in the bags of toys and show them to the lady desk officer who is hot,
She blows me off and tells me to place them in the container marked "Toys for Tots."

She does take the time ask me if that tuned import outside is mine,
I tell her that every part has a CARB sticker, no worries, all is fine.

She tells me that she digs cars and she is specially fond of,
Of the cool little cars built and sold by descendants of Soichiro Honda.

She thanks me for the donation and says it will make,
Some poor local children's life somewhat easier to take.

Now that my good deed is fully done,
I hop in the car to have me some fun.

Legally and carefully I take a little trip,
To be the first in line at the local drag strip.

Driving at speed I only do on the track,
Weaving or racing on the street is totally whack.

And to all who read this poem, I have this to say,
Extend some kindness to a stranger, bring light to each day.

Scott
 
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