Your plastic flowers    Mark the spot    On the side of the road   Your spirit hits the air    Like jumping off into the quarries cold   Metal is twisted    Firebird is lifting off of the ground   Its tires are blistered   So deeply scared of dying that we die   Oh ambulance you take your time    To take me from the scene of the crime   Often I'm left to pay to play    For the ride of my life   Oh, lady of the highway    Say your prayers for me   Cause I'm so deeply...   When I'm walking off to work    What comes to mind   With my hands in my pockets I left you lying   And now somewhere deep inside my head is the guilt   Of my imagination you know I'm   Deeply scared of dying that we die...