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