Think you're gonna go
I don't want to know
'Cause I taste disaster
That is what I'm after
It's like fuel, like when my foot is on the gas
Dead inside, she said
Nothing can open me now, but at the same time
Look at me, I'm sailing
Foot on the gas on the West Side Highway
Hand inside, hand inside
If that ride could last forever I'd need nothing else
We're on our way
Back to NJ
With your head stained red
Just like our bed
If that ride could last forever I'd need nothing else
Foot on the gas on the West Side Highway
Hand inside, hand inside
If that ride could last forever I'd need nothing else
