The glory of a misspent youth, chasing tire stains in muted thunder, trading s** for d**. And my Ophelia does not drown, she just barely hangs on. Now driving drunk in Daddy's car. Honey, I won't spoil the ending. But see that bend up in the road? Didn't it seem that the night was a little too quiet? When it seems your subjects have all forgotten you, I need you to pretend that you are mine. And the water is just deep enough to take another chance, ah, but the river doesn't want you tonight. The engine was not built to last. And there's a permanence to the memory of a bruise. But I still take it on the chin for you You are not alone here, but you ain't helping me none. Disabled motorist in the road, I have become one.