I don't know,
I don't care,
about the reasons
why they stare.

They see our flare,
more than a spark.
Doesn't everyone like playing with fire
within the cover of the dark?

This may seem stark,
but I don't care
I'll give my *****
to the shooting star.
We'll be a world afar,
while you sit in your car,
go on, give me a glare,
because I am, my devious self
and i don't really care.