Up the hallway and out into the air
Shield my eyes against the glare
Blacktop bubbling in the heat
Satan rising in the street, I don't care much

Wildflowers wither at my touch and I'll burn too
Before I get through

Down the street, step short and sweet
Watch for the hand behind the curtain
There is no trace of it
Not anywhere, so I shield my eyes against the glare
And I slide
Glide
Into the intersection

Check out my own reflection
When the gears grind, I won't mind