My gas guage goes from a quarter to empty
Open up my mouth fill it with coffee.
My heart beats at 6 thousand RPM
my stomach and the tires turn in unison.
My right foot controls both the gas and the brake
which one I pick is dependent on my brain.
I sit in the drivers seat and I think.
Should I come to a safe stop
or accelerate off a mountain top
is there any difference.--
Racing through yellow lights just to end up at dead end signs
I shake my head turn around and go back again.
My GPS says to take 4 lefts, like an idiot I listen
and I end up back where I started.
This indecision is driving me up the walls towards the ceiling
And I don't want to be hanging from there.
If the wind sings songs with porch lights on
and you can't help but to sing along I say that you got there.
So pull over and pull up a chair.
We'll sing songs of defiance and dance to stomp out avarice
and we can say we finally got there,
where that is I haven't a care.
C F. C Em Am C
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