So many times you ran yourself over. Talking back on a cold-crying shoulder. Get in a car with the taxi driver. Sympathy of strangers, hoping to find her.
Sometimes the conversation is a road to the south. Beyond the leaking roof, to the dry mouth. Sometimes intrepidation is the roadkill in me. Oh, walk on in and solve the mystery.
She has a gilt complex, break her neck. Now she's run, run, running right over the edge. Had a gilt complex, poison pen. She's signing her name and she's forgetting her friends.
I know you are, another planet miles apart. Is it a question of things you really. Should have cared about?. . You took a drive, countries called. More than your friends did, they watched you fall.