This landscape makes its mark on my mind
and the radio yells “ Oh, the times”.
Beating hearts are releasing, tired of the grey wind,
finding paintbrushes in eyes.
Repaint these streets, with the art of state of mind.
The gaslight’s on, but the song’s still going strong.
I can’t pull over now.
Consume the freedom, consume the energy.
‘Cause it’s been depleted, remedies and melodies
two lanes that look so bare,
heart frames and wheels that stare,
a dark night with nothing but a match,
an itchy mind and fingers that can scratch.