Nordberg

While everyone sleeps I take my car across this runway of concrete
With the steering wheel in one hand, and in the other
Tucked neatly, my list of demands
I have wondered how things could have been different
I guess it doesn't matter. It really doesn't matter
How could it matter
Now I know, now I feel, how you'd react if I spoke these words
In my back pocket is a list of everything that I've taken from you
There's only five gears between me and forever