a fugitive's heart

acid washed dreams

driving fast on the freeway
because my baby's got a gun.
the new millennial bonnie and clyde.
you know we're always on the run.

i have the bags, filled with cash.
he's got the diamonds, in our stash.
they'll never catch us,
so we laugh
for those scrambling on our behalf.

the way we're rushing,
i know i'm blushing
because i'm doing it for the thrill.
now, we got half a mill
in the trunk of my v8 ford
and another memory safety stored.

riding around like it's our death car,
guided by the north star.
by the time they catch me and my man
we'll be sitting first class
on a flight to japan
with a stranger's identity in my back pocket
and a fugitive's heart in a stolen locket.

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