I can tell that you're trying not to open your eyes, but the sun is too bright.
Come, give up and move on. Leave that city and drive to nowhere. I followed the sun as it passed by my streets, my friends, my home. And I swore under my breath that they would never see my face around here. Never Again. I shut the door and put that beater in gear. I watched your face get smaller in my rear-view mirror. I put my finger out and I screamed, "here's that white picket fence. here's that american dream."