The land is burning and dry under hot desert skies.
My gut is churning but you won't see fear in my eyes.
Nothing to lose as I climb in and look to the roads,
Then light the fuse of the cannon, which promptly explodes.
The blast sends me skyward and into free fall,
With one final thought as I head towards the wall:
I'll get that Road-Runner if it's the last thing I do.
If Murphy's Laws are religion, I must be a saint.
What else explains semis bursting from tunnels I paint?
A thousand Rube Goldberg nightmares lie smashed in my garage --
How many falling pianos can that damn bird dodge?
From magnetic birdseed to dynamite darts,
I could buy General Mills with what I spend on parts,
But I'll get that Road-Runner if it's the last thing I do.
I should forget it, he's not big enough for a stew.
My line of credit with Acme is ten years past due.
Got no insurance, I can't sign for claims with my paws.
In vile durance for breaking most EPA laws.
But my super genius will deal with that dunce,
Remember that I have to win only once,
And I'll get him someday -- perhaps I should try something new.
My canyon compactor was perfect to echo my screams.
My backpack reactor worked fine, until I crossed the beams.
My bomb extender snapped back with the lit TNT.
My flying blender was just a tad quicker than me.
But I'm smarter, I'm stronger, and he's only fast,
Let's hear him "beep beep" with his head up his ass,
And I'll get that Road-Runner if it's the last thing I do!