Self Control

Tonight, we saw the split second the rush before dying, the twist of good metal the swerve of the drunkard in a flash of white light We braced only precious things, my 3 year old daughter and our own frail adrenaline bodies held tight Tonight, this man chose to pour his soul out with liquor to the brim I'll never know if pain or laughter forced his hand I'll never know if he saw my daughter crying with eyes of fear unknown by the young Tonight, I held back the winds the rage through my blood, the taste of vengeance The twisted car was given a name by it's maker We, by our parents - my daughter, by us. Tonight, we still breathe, and, thanks to self-control, so does he.