Cool Hand

When I was a kid, my grandpa took me to the ten-cent theatre to see Cool Hand Luke I wanted to be Paul Newman so bad after I saw that movie There was something about the adventure and running from the law Or the brotherhood of a chain gang There was something in there that as a kid, I couldn't put my finger on But I think a part of me knew it was something I'd never have Something I'd always be chasing It's something I'd see, elsewhere, and always be looking through the window wishing I could have it I know there's nothing glorious about being a fugitive and I ain't never had a desire to break the law I never even stole a newspaper I remember as I was leaving the theater with my grandpa We walked out onto the street with a bucket of popcorn, there was a couple kernels left on the bottom I remember he took it from and laughed a certain way, he could see some kind of look in my eyes I must've been staring He tipped the bucket of popcorn up to his lips and he poured in the last few kernels He chewed them up and looked off down the street and tossed the bucket in the trash When we drove home, we passed a squad car speed-trapping on the side of the road We were going slow enough that I could make eye-contact with the sherriff's deputy as we passed I remember I pretended, about as hard as I could, that I was on the run That I had somewhere to be and I needed to get there fast