Chrome and Thunder — Don Young Does It Again

A few months ago I wrote about a ride.

2 AM, an empty street, and an old Corvette flat out in the night. Escape. Power. Control. Three words that meant everything to me.

Don Young read it. Then he made it sing.

This is the second time he’s done this. The first was Going Home Day, inspired by the Camp chapter of my book. Now Chrome and Thunder, inspired by With Cars, I Felt Strong.

It wakes me up all over again having Don read my bit and respond by making it new. Don’s a brand strategist, musician, and composer who publishes under the name Emperorjones. He hears things I didn’t know were there — and plays them back.

* * *

Chrome and Thunder
Words and music by Don Young / Emperorjones

2 AM, I’m alone
Empty street, engine’s beat
Yellow light, chrome and stone
Idle low, tastin’ heat
Nothing moves, still unknown
Gauges glow at my feet
Window down, breathe the night
Something wild, ready to ignite

Clutch goes in, first gear found
Dead quiet holds its breath
Engine growls, a waiting sound
One long light, life and death
Red to green, no turning round
Everything comes down to this
No one here to see me now
Just me, the dark, and steel somehow

No one in sight
No one to see
It’s just the dark
And what’s left of me

Green light, dump the clutch
Six grand, slam through second gear
Tires bite then such a rush
Third gear grips, no room for fear
Small block screams, a violent touch
Torque and thunder, engine clear
Escape. Power. Control.
Law of the road — only the strong survive

Fourth gear now, the torque falls off
Flying now, eatin’ road
Shark and prey, night gone soft
Swallowin’ the dark whole
Adrenaline lets me go
Wind takes over, steady, slow

2 AM, don’t ask me why
Empty road, one more street
Nothing here but night and sky
Instinct now, not counted beats
Something wild I can’t deny
Laws of nature, primal heat
Only the strong survive tonight
When that green light starts to glow

Green light, dump the clutch
Six grand, slam through second gear
Tires bite then such a rush
Third gear grips, no room for fear
Small block screams, a violent touch
Torque and thunder, engine clear
Escape. Power. Control.
That’s all I ever want

Escape... power... control...

* * *

Don writes about in-home music production and the creative life at inhomestudio.substack.com.

The Work Beneath the Work is available now at tedleonhardt.com/the-work-beneath-the-work