Burn out, don't calm down, this town will be sated. Her teeth crunch beneath every leaf-crusted grate, and her lips are the curb. Cracked cement stretched and sore. She's tasted you once, now her throat chokes for more. A roach skits along where a guardrail is bent. Her nose is his eyes and shes's picked up your scent. She'll block you with buildings, she'll lap at your tires. She'll wrap you within wound-up telephone wires. So burn out, don't calm down, leave stripes down her chin. Get out before somebody pulls you back in.