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