I wanna know what you’re chasing in the dark
When the engine screams like a broke-heart
You’re a ghost in leather, no rear-view
James Dean in the rear-lane, I follow you
Through the static of the midnight radio
Every skid is a kiss I’ll never hold
Crash me brilliant, burn me clean
Teach me how to vanish at nineteen
I wanna know—do the flames feel free?
If I die young, will you wait for me?