Don’t you remember the last time we were speeding down this highway?
Anna slept in the back seat, dreaming in the autumn heat.
We turned up the country radio.
I said, «if you want me just say so.»
I slicked back my hair in the wind.
I told you I didn’t want my picture taken but you snapped it anyway.
Now I guess you won’t have trouble remembering me someday.
So I floored it and swerved around the lanes.
I kept wishing it were you instead of me behind the wheel
so maybe with my camera I could steal a shot of you
and go home to put it in my room.
Maybe you’ll never remember me.
Maybe my face will lose these scars,
’cause sometimes they keep me home at night
where I duck under the covers and wince when I see the light.
