I think I met you in a past life
In the backseat of your parent's car
I didn't recognize you blonded
Your reflection changes every hour
We watch the hills grow smaller in the rear view
I want to take you where the angels live
They said Los Angeles was burning down
We can just burn with it
In the backseat of your parent's car
I can see the storm rushing in
But as long as your hand's in mine we can make the most of it
In the backseat of your parent's car I can see the storm rushing in But as long as your hands in mine we can make the most of it
In the backseat of your parent's car I can see the storm rushing in But as long as your hand's in mine we can make the most of it