We were flying down the turnpike
Taillights trailed behind us
The residue of our wings
We were angels then, out of our minds
Drunk on youth and envy
They called us troubled, but we were
Proud of our lives
We were turning into stories for our grandchildren

I remember
No one would admit it, but I wasn't supposed to be there
But all the laughter orbiting the car kept me safe
Though I was always in my head
The quiet one, that's what they call the old souls
Million miles away
They were ready to take over
They would end suffering with their naive ideals of a better place
Have the tired and ancient ones offer them the world
So they could rule it, destroy it, make it fitting for their royalty
And I took notes
Nice to have the memory of feeling invincible
If not angry
And afraid to sleep
More afraid to admit it
Because those dreams I had were always ending
Presenting me with daylight and ***** dishes
And the cold floors of strangers.