you're a stranger in the best way possible
i've grown tired of the magazines and fossils

i'm not interested in who's the fastest
i don't care about what's behind your sunglasses

don't give me any clue
take it at some kind of value

you work like a machine
good as any well-oiled dream

you're flicking your cigarette out the window
unaware that you're giving somebody a show

i take the back roads when i drive to your place
i wash my face before i touch my pillowcase

take away nothing else
but the truths that you tell yourself

and if i don't know you
then i don't have to forgive you