I was crazy to think crazy to chase
Chasing this automobile
I tend to think were you ready to race
Racing this automobile

It's a machine it's the one in my dreams
It's taking me out of control it slips
Through my hands on the wheel
Don't you know how it feels

When you're driving your dreams
Through a pole

I hate your face I hate the wall
I'm sick of staring at the wall
I hate the mirror with alcohol
There is no wall

All I remember is the sound
Of squealing tires
The road disappeared only to be
Replaced by the sound of twisted steel

The collision was swift
And the next thing I knew
Was that I might be dead
All my life passed before my eyes

When I opened my eyes
I was looking at you

They sent you here to take care of me
I don't know your name
I can't hear your voice
I can't speak

And all I do is wait for you to feed me

They said the road was slick
I said I've been feeling sick
My head went through the mirror
Why did they send you here

I want to get up and shake you loose
I want to be free of these machines

I want to be released from this dream
I want to be another machine

Copyright: BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): BOB MOULD