Motorcycle ride to your midlife crisis
Nothing in your briefcase, but your visors
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Thought that you'd be happy chasing hearts downtown
King of your suburbia hating your crown
Am I an old soul? It it my clothes?
I've seen you standing alone
And you go in for the kill
To get a teenage kind of thrill
Wanna sip, sip my fountain of youth?