You can find your identity in the damage that's been done to you. You find your identity in your wounds, in your scars, in the places where you've been beat up and you turn them into a medal. We all wear the things we've survived with some honor, but the real honor is in also transcending them.
Well now everything dies baby that's a fact. But maybe everything that dies someday comes back.
Roll down the window and let the wind blow back your hair. Well the night's busting open, these two lanes will take us anywhere. We've got one last chance to make it real, to trade in these wings on some wheels. Climb in back, heaven's waiting down on the tracks.
We gotta get out while we're young, 'cause tramps like us, baby we were born to run.
Well, let there be sunlight, let there be rain, Let the brokenhearted love again, Sherry, we can run with our arms open before the tide.
I'll love you with all the madness in my soul.
Show a little faith, there's magic in the night.