Amongst the rubble my envious eyes are on the fast cars,
in the heaps of junk on a grassless verge.
My face battles the selfish wind, as an engine zooming into the far.
Leaving its dust raining upon my face covering the urge.
For years I have been alone witnessing the flag of signal,
I\'m bored hearing the revving, the sound is my lullaby
The droning. the excitement. I wish I could fly away like a golden eagle
But no, my wheels have be stolen, millions of times I ask, why?
Stolen my wheels, before I could even see the white start-line
Now here alone, immobilised. My eyes on the level with rolling wheels, it makes me cry.
The detritus of life I lay in, now seem to be comfortable and fine
I\'m use to it, in a strange way
As I look around my eighteen years consuming chunks of metal,
Can I build myself a new car with this rubbish? Your stupid rules, I will not obey!
Could I restart this foolish battle?
So I to could be driving on the busy highway of life