Backseat Driver

I still get lost walking down my street in the night
I don't want to speak to you
Though my tongue loves your name
But these days it all sounds the same

I'm not good I'm not even close
Can't get through without my daily dose of you
Your bruised knuckles and arms
I can't explain why I think so much

And every morning I feel a warning
That this isn't where I should be
My hands are stained with the colour of your name
And I'm sick of getting swept off my feet

Cut me down get so riled up
Tie me down so when I get up
I don't have to see where I'm going all the time
But sometimes it's nice not to be so blind

And every morning I feel a warning
That this isn't where I should be
My hands are stained with the colour of your name
And I'm sick of getting swept off my feet

But I don't mind you're only a part time dead weight
Listening out to whatever you yell from the backseat
And I know that you'll never admit to me
But I don't mind if you still walk me down my street in the night
You're only a part time dead weight
And I'm still afraid of my heartbeat