We drove down exhaustion avenue
Up ahead young men on motorbikes were over revving
They were pulling wheeleys checking ofr onlookers
accelerating and jumping road islands
Engines screaming bursting the peace
Cracking open the sacred peace of exhaustion avenue
I was driving and electric car my childhood friends with me
thirty kilometers an hour toward the roundabout
Rush is neurological disease we had cured ourselves of somehow
We were once occupied trying to be things that we weren't
Decorating ourselves dressing up our identity in super brands
Blinging and exhibiting ourselves in false jewelry
Attempting to show the world who we were
not even convincing ourselves
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