A back door leads to a back road,

speeding down its slick curves

makes me feel sick.

A lovesick girl with a friend

by her right side

keeps me in the back seat

with that touchy-feely freak.

Now we're taking a fast curve,

and I want to kick out

that guy that's been bothering me.

And I say—

Hey,

hey, hey,

hey, hey,

slow down.

Someone spilt paint on the sidewalk—

looks like a blood stain.

Slit the wrists of the highway

where the all animals are dead.

Looking out black windshields

I see my friends roll down a hill.

And I say—

Hey,

hey, hey,

hey, hey,

hold on.

Looking out my window,

as the trees go by—

they look like the cathedral

where they take us to die,

and the way they seem to flash

reminds me a sick side-show

about a nation that really needed

to be on meds.

And I say—

Hey,

hey, hey

hey, hey,

slow down.

Swerving off of the road,

we need to see a mirror,

but every time I look at mine

I see a girl with flowers in her hair

and I ribbon on her dress—

she looks back at me

and says, "You're a mess,"

all I say back is, "Yes."

And I say—

Hey,

hey, hey,

hey, hey,

hold on.

I'm pulling up to home now—

the sky is swirling black,

and tells me that I need a new dress,

since my best friend spat on the old one.

And I say—

Hey,

hey, hey,

hey, hey,

speed up.