With the car left by the road.
For the burning, in our veins.
We just need to get away.
We're screaming at the stars.
In a hole in our backyard.
Left our cubicles in little flaming piles.
I need to feel something different for just a little while.
I'm staying with the wolves.
They can burn all my mail.
Tell my mom I'm sorry, sorry for leaving.
Now we're running to find meaning.
We're gone, and we're never coming back.