we drove out in the country, 
and stopped to sit a bit, 
her bare feet out the window 
and the car top down. 

she told me i might be alright, 
for somebody like me — 
yeah, we were seventeen, 
and there was no one else around. 

and it was just in being free 
that anything made sense; 
and when you’ve taken nothing, 
there’s no need for recompense — 

silence was our tool of choice:
we chose then to employ it —
it’s funny: sometimes when you’re young, 
you know it, and 

enjoy it