V A E L O R A - The Blue Still Shows

Top-down summer in my hair, one hand on the wheel,
One hand in the air.
You nail on the seat beside me like a ghost that still rides quietly.
The map got torn, the tank ran low,
But I know every bend the soul will toss.
I laughed too hard,
Then I let it sting; that's how I learned to keep moving.
If I look back, I might break, so I lean into the ache.