The Golden Age - Beck

Put your hands on the wheel

Let the golden age begin

Let the window down

Feel the moonlight on your skin

Let the desert wind

Cool your aching head

Let the weight of the world

Drift away instead

Ohh, these days I barely get by

I don’t even try

It’s a treacherous road

With a desolated view

There’s distant lights

But here they’re far and few

And the sun don’t shine

Even when it’s day

You gotta drive all night

Just to feel like you’re ok

Ohh, these days I barely get by

I don’t even try

I don’t even try