David Bowie’s voice was like a race car bed to me
To take me back in time, when we were only seventeen
Sprinklers in the summer air, my feet on muddy ground
Turn into ***** bottles as I scream without a sound

Rachel’s cabin in the woods was a race car bed to me
A lovely little paradise that brought so much to see
The outside world did not exist, when I was with you there
We kissed inside the living room with flowers in our hair

And now I find that there is not a race car bed for me
Nowhere else to turn to in my grand attempt to flee
Fears that hunt me down like prey have chained me here to die
A grown up bird, so limitless, but too afraid to fly