Red and blue flashes painting the night,
But there’s no emergency, just a craving in sight.
He hopped in the cockpit, no medical degree,
Shifted to drive, setting the gurney free.
Dispatch is screaming, the engine is humming,
Nobody’s dying, but the buzz is coming.
He’s doing twenty in a sixty-five zone,
Ignoring the radio, he’s in the zone.
Sixty thousand dollars of life-saving steel,
Just to keep a grip on a cold-canned deal.
He’s got the sirens screaming, the lights on gold,
But the only thing dying is the beer getting cold.
Yeah, he’s sipping on a cold one, let the chase unfold.
Spike strips hitting like a rhythmic beat,
Rubber shedding off on the asphalt street.
Windows rolled down, wind in his hair,
He’s got five-o behind him, but he doesn’t care.
One last gulp before the cuffs click tight.
Officer, I wasn't speeding.
I was just hydrating for the intake process.
Save me a seat in the back.
