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I'm asleep at the wheel and there's a curve in the highway |
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Yet we tear through the night like a peyote migraine |
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How much further is it, aching, so exquisite |
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I hope we can stop in time |
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Now you don't want to dance, 'cause we're looking right through you |
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Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, and the clothes that you wear, we don't mean to stare |
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Now the sky is on fire and the desert is freezing |
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Wonder how I'm alive, when I'm not even breathing |
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How much further is it, aching, so exquisite |
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I hope we can stop in time |
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Now you don't want to dance, 'cause we're looking right through you |
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Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, and the clothes that you wear, we don't mean to stare |
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Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, but the people you know, they say what they want to |
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Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, 'cause the truth of it is, we don't really care |
