She was born in the early morning, backseat of an oldsmobile
Mother was a stunner, Father forgot about her
It’s probably for the better
She seldom pulls her punches, instead she throws most of em
She’ll steal your keys, drive you home but leave you sleeping all alone

I wish she would, Love me like I know she could

She’s been running since she stole that motorcycle from her weird uncle (steve)
She’s got a ragged red rag in the backseat of her denim jeans
She got stains on her hands, undeniably engine trouble
But what’s the fun in, putting trust in, anything reliable