I'm stuck here still, like a wildflower on the side of the highway.
Your fingers grip the wheel, as you're pulling out your parents driveway. You're staring down the road, burying your heart in the ash tray. You think it's gonna grow, like a wildflower on the side of the highway.
You got stopped by the cops putting lipstick on, for your junior prom You looked so pretty he let you off. You always said that it creeped you out, and it let you down And it made you think less of the law.
We can sleep on the floor cause you're scared of heights And you're scared you might turn into your mother. I'll sleep in the rain under your headlights,
I'll be outside your front door.














