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A Joy Ride for Kathleen

From the Rock Island Argus, June 8, 1914. By Henry Howland.

I’ll take you home again, Kathleen,
    We’ll have a wild, hair-raising ride;
I’ve smuggled out the new machine,
    And it shall now be fully tried;
The breeze shall fiercely fan your cheek,
    The waiting cops we will despise;
We will ignore the words they speak,
    The dust we make shall fill their eyes;
Oh, I will take you home, Kathleen;
    I hope that you may feel no pain;
The car is all wiped nice and clean,
    We’ll have it spattered up again.

I know you love me, Kathleen, dear,
    Because the car I run is new;
I’ll speed it on the highest gear,
    And try to give new thrills to you;
The things that get in front of me
    I’ll smash, and care but little how.
Hold to your hat and you shall see
    Some mighty pretty scorching now.
Oh, I will take you home, Kathleen,
    And if we give to others pain,
We’ll blithely hurry from the scene
    And never drive that way again.

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