The many passing faces on the highway of life
The many drivers that we become through the strife
Much like the headlights speeding down the highway
Even more like the fees at a toll station that I must pay
Police men pull me over and tell me to tread light
But I am a racecar driver, baby, not looking to do it right
The more I take in the lights as I pass them by
The more it hurts when I sometimes crash and die
But that’s okay, the pit crew comes and fixes me up
To gain even more speed that I inevitably buildup
Vroom vroom, bitch, let’s keep this thing going
Through the traffic that seems to keep flowing
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