He places his hands on the wheel.
Suddenly the freeway isn't free anymore...
the weight in his pocket drags on the floor.
He carries her name in his arm;
"Mother, O, Mother I meant you no harm."

He lays in a mess on the floor.
He lays in a mess on the floor.
He lays in a mess on the floor.
He doesn't feel it anymore.

He lays in a mess on the floor.
He lays in a mess on the floor.
Maybe he's taken too much,
or maybe he's finally taken enough.

And he's over the moon...

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