Chrome and oil on the black concrete.
Cold wind blowing down a dead-end street.
I watch the flicker of a buzzing light.
Keeping watch through the middle of the night.
Gas pump humming a low-end tune.
Silver sliver of a winter moon.
The red line pulses on the dirty glass.
Waiting for the lonely cars to pass.
At the crossroads where the headlights spin.
Where the highway ends and the ghosts begin.
Under the buzz of the electric blue.
I am the one who is watching you.
Coffee steaming in a plastic cup.
Looking for a sign to wake me up.
Diesel fumes and the smell of old rain.
Counting every link in a heavy chain.
Gas pump humming a low-end tune.
Silver sliver of a winter moon.
The red line pulses on the dirty glass.
Waiting for the lonely cars to pass.
At the crossroads where the headlights spin.
Where the highway ends and the ghosts begin.
Under the buzz of the electric blue.
I am the one who is watching you.
Slicked back hair and a worn out coat.
Stuck in traffic like a sinking boat.
I see the faces in the rearview glare.
Looking for a way out of nowhere.
Shift the gear and let the engine scream.
Waking up from a gasoline dream.
Tire tracks cutting through the midnight grit.
This is the place where the sparks all hit.
At the crossroads where the headlights spin.
Where the highway ends and the ghosts begin.
Under the buzz of the electric blue.
I am the one who is watching you.
The shift is over and the sky is grey.
Another driver headed far away.
I lock the door with a heavy sound.
Feet planted firmly on the frozen ground.
At the crossroads where the headlights spin.
Where the highway ends and the ghosts begin.
Under the buzz of the electric blue.
I am the one who is watching you.
Watching you.
Just watching you.
The meter's running.
Fade to blue.
