Not everyone feels the way I do about driving,
when I get in that car I feel in control
I feel like I can go anywhere, anytime.
The feel of the leather;
the space I'm given in the vehicle;
the movement of the wheel.
The windows are down and that
nice crisp fresh air comes right through
right through my lungs and refreshes my mind.
The car is clean, a new start.
I have to put the music on,
it's the link between the journey and the story
that gets me, that drives my soul.
Where am I going? I'm pulling out onto the streets.
How fast will I go?
Not the speed limit, I'll always go a little bit over.
Suggestive to obey the rules to do as everyone does.
Using your better judgment in the right case.
You can never trust the passenger,
what ever they say, to hold off and to go for it
to back out with blinded eyes is kept
within a false sense of security.
In my car, there's only room for one other.
I'm not a chaperon; you're along for the ride
with me.
I'm not going to drop you off
and drive away into the distance.
There is only room for one, but sometimes
I will drive alone and that scares me.
To have someone by my side,
hands held with two on the steering wheel.
The music blasts but I'm the only one that can hear it.
We are going a little slower than everyone else,
people are honking at us, passing us on the side street.
Trying to use my mind to drive the vehicle,
I don't want to go the speed limit
because the weather conditions are dangerous
so many people are getting into accidents.
I don't want to crash but
I don't want to make you late.
I didn't get there in time, you ran inside
but it was too late.
You're yelling at me, telling me it's all my fault.
Now I have to drive you home
and the drive is silent except for the engine.
You get out and you thank me anyways,
now the door is shut, I'm all alone.
I put the music up a little higher
now I can hardly hear myself think.
Put my foot on the gas and now I'm gone.
The drive home is hard, I don't want to return
because I know it will be hard from now on.
The car is in park and I don't want to get out
the key is out and there is no point in staying
except I don't want to confront the stale air.
The ground is bright with radiant snow,
walking on a cloud to the door, I can imagine.
I'll talk myself through it, I'm going tomorrow anyways.
Grab my stuff and protect my pride heavily.
Trying to smile but I can't convince anyone
the wind is way too strong
I'm surprised I'm not being blown over.
I need an excuse to get out again.
I'm inside, hand it over and I know in the next week
