Six o'clock strikes before the evening sunset dies across the highway.    I would drive forever if it meant that I could just hear you breathe.    I could make this a habit (getting last in a parking lot), but I would be so lost if I could never see your face.    Thank god for you tonight and the city that brightly lights your eyes.   And we would lie to ourselves to pass the time (yeah, we're so alive) and we would play games by walking into headlights.   In case you find your way back home I’ll wait forever.    Then maybe you won't be just a picture in my head.    In case you find your way back home I’ll wait forever.    Then maybe you won't just be a picture in my head.    I am like the bullet from the gun you never loaded (still waiting to be used).   God knows you're good at what you do, but nothing's worth its weight in excuses.