Hands on Borrowed Time

Time ain't mine. Road ain't mine.

Hell,

tomorrow hasn't

signed anything over either.

But these next few miles?

I'll take 'em.

Whole life rented with a temporary key,

Everybody acting like they own eternity.

Name on the paper,

number on the door,

Funny how we call it ours till it ain't anymore.

People come through, people move on,

Some leave slowly, some wake up gone.

Can't own the weather,

can't negotiate age, But I can pick the damn song while I'm

driving this stage.

BORROWED TIME, OWNED CAR!

Don't know how long,

but I know where we are!

Nothing stays forever, so I'm driving it hard,

BORROWED TIME—OWNED CAR! If the road disappears somewhere after tonight,

I still had my hands on the wheel for the ride!

(DRIVE! DRIVE! DRIVE!) Yeah.

That's the idea.

Can't own a minute,

can't purchase a year,

Can't make somebody who wants out stay here.

Can't tell tomorrow what tomorrow should bring,

Turns out control is a temporary thing.

So fuck gripping tighter when the whole world moves,

I got one little window where I get to choose.

Left or right, fast or slow,

Stay right here or get up and go— Maybe freedom ain't owning

the road, Maybe it's choosing which direction you roll.

(Tick... tick... tick...)

That's unsettling.

Also unnecessary. (TICK!) Alright,

DRIVE.

I don't need forever!

I need RIGHT NOW!

Don't need to own it

to know somehow— For one little second,

through one little door,

I GOT TO DECIDE WHAT THIS MOMENT WAS FOR!

(THEN GO!) BORROWED TIME,

OWNED CAR! WINDOWS DOWN,

DON'T CARE HOW FAR!

Nothing belongs to us long— THAT'S WHY WE BETTER USE WHAT WE

GOT! (DRIVE!) While it's here!

(DRIVE!) While I'm here!

(DRIVE!) Where we going?

(WHO CARES!)

Borrowed time. My turn.