Me, I can't control this car
The wheel pulls me along its course
Three year hands cannot hold it tight
Wind down many a wicked road
Be a wheel to speed
To set it right
Big tree and corner say stop
A crash tells my mom just what I am
My dad builds a bonfire to mark the spot
And spits me, turning slowly, in the heat
Be a wheel to get away
To turn away
To turn myself around
The wheel pulls me along its course
Three year hands cannot hold it tight
Wind down many a wicked road
To set it right
A crash tells my mom just what I am
My dad builds a bonfire to mark the spot
And spits me, turning slowly, in the heat
To turn away
To turn myself around
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