The Golden Age — Beck

Put your hands on the wheel Let the golden age begin Let the window down Feel the moonlight on your skin Let the desert wind cool you aching head Let the weight of the world drift away instead

These days I barely get by I don't even try

It's a treacherous road with a desolated view There's distant lights but here they're far and few And the sun don't shine even when it's day You gotta drive all night just to feel like you're ok

These days I barely get by I don't even try