He was sure he could handle it.
To try to tell him otherwise,
Would bring on a angry fit,
He thought he was macho bold,
And that his drug habit,
Could be controlled.
Warnings that we tried to give,
Were for his own good.
We hoped that he would learn to live.
But he could handle it.
What were we talking about?
He could handle it.
He was angry when he hit the gas.
He drove like a bat out of hell.
Don’t you even try to pass.
He’d been warned about the curve,
On those hills in Simi
But he had some nerve.
That night had been driving fast,
He was clocked at 190
By the cop he went flying past.
It was good until he hit the curve,
He flew off the edge,
When the car refused to swerve.
All of his bluster and macho bold.
Kept him from living,
Kept him from growing old.
He was lost in drug’s haze.
Killed instantly on impact,
He went out in a fiery blaze.
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