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It came over the hill with all wheels in the air
Soon to be followed by an evening prayer
The kid at the wheel was a can short of four
The police would be knocking on some family door
The kid at the wheel, nineteen true years old
Coming up to twelve, by the police I was told
The smell on his breath,  dog ends on the floor bay
Alcohol and drugs gave the whole game away
He lost the plot, coming over the hill
In a raging machine that went on to kill

He was sat having a drink with a friend
Unaware, his life was to end
The half undrunk wine on the table it stood
Had he stayed longer to finish
There would be no spill of blood
Fate made his feet, take steps to the door
Now he lay dead in the blood and the gore

Down the canal tow path, the driver he fled
Leaving in his wake, the injured and dead
Two young girls in the call box, Jill and her best mate
Spinning yarn’s to mum’s on why they were out late
When the bolt hit them out from the blue
It was luck that they were not killed too

I don’t blame the boy for the death of my bro
It’s the way, the mop flops, the touch and the go
He did not go out with intention to kill
Just a thrill of a speed with a car and a hill
The lesson to be learned from this tragic tale
Don’t do the drive when you been on the ale

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