Cars speed through another small town –
And spin on the corners, as they go 'round.
While unaware that they may he hit,
There on the fence, the onlookers sit;
They laugh out loud, and give a cheer,
As cars spin out, for they have no fear.
On they race, just to get ahead;
How long, before many people are dead?
All year long we all complain,
And say the young people must be insane.
Then later, we read about their fate,
After high-speeding it, around the state.
But the news for now is the Targa's fate,
Fast cars, speed and the accident rate.
It's not supposed to influence the young
To speed and race, and call it fun.
But like Targa, their engines will roar –
When they put their foot flat to the floor.
So for now and the rest of the year,
We will once again be driving in fear.