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 compute
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

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