Verse 1

The engine’s warm, the highway’s a blur of neon gates

I’ve got your voiceprint on my lips and the aftertaste of your mistakes

And the GPS just keeps on sayin' “Turn around, you missed the turn”

But I’m a moth that loves the static, and I guess I never learn

Pre-Chorus

And you said, “Baby, don’t you orbit me, I’m not a sun”

But I felt the pull of your indifference since the 2 AMs we’ve won

Chorus

And I’m a dead star burning in the passenger seat

A sermon from a speaker with a broken beat

If I’m gonna crash, then let the dashboard glow

Through the ghost of your grip and the radio low

Yeah, I’m a moon-drunk driver with no place to go

Just the gravity of you pulling me below

Verse 2

The air is thin inside this cheap motel regret