87 Octane

The sun's a yellow bruise on a tired sky. I'm washing off the dust but the well is Dry. Found a crumpled twenty in my dirty boot. Life's a bitter taste, but I like the fruit. Your advice is static on a broken radio. I got places to be where you can't go. I'm not looking for a sign or a holy Ghost. Just the shortest way to the edge of the Coast. Don't tell me how to breathe. Don't tell me how to fall. I've already seen the writing on the bathroom wall. I'm fueled by eighty-seven and a middle grade spike. I'm a stray dog howlin' in the middle of The night. Keep your white picket fences and your easy Chairs. I'm taking the highway, I'm taking the stairs. I don't need a map, I don't need a Hand. I'm the queen of a vast and a Vacant land. Yeah, I'm gone. There's a hole in my sweater and a crack In my heart. But I'm the only one who can tear it Apart. You're worried 'bout the future and the price of Tea. While I'm worried about the wolf that lives inside Of me. I'll sleep in the backseat, I'll eat in the Rain. I'll find a way to dance in the Middle of the pain. Check the rearview mirror, watch me disappear. I'm leaving all my ghosts in the atmosphere. I'm fueled by eighty-seven and a middle grade spike. I'm a stray dog howlin' in the middle of The night. Keep your white picket fences and your easy Chairs. I'm taking the highway, I'm taking the stairs. I don't need a map, I don't need a Hand. I'm the queen of a vast and a Vacant land. Yeah, I'm gone. Gasoline, Nicotine, Everything In between. I'm not coming back, I'm not coming back, I'm not coming Back. Keep the change, Keep the keys. I'm finally catching the breeze.