Imogen Heap Speeding Cars Lyrics Novelas e Histórias

I purred, gliding my hand on the hood of my car as I made it to the driver’s side. I turned her on, *V-V-V-VROOM*. I loved the sound of my car as she came alive. I reversed and pulled out of the driveway, then pressed the accelerator all the way, ramming the engine as I sped off. I had my windows down listening to ‘Thunder by Imagine Dragons.’ It felt weird not picking Evie up. I couldn’t wait to see her and… ‘Drat!’ I just remembered that I have Ivan and Christian in my first-period class. F*ck, how did I forget that?

A few minutes later. Imogen wanted to pretend she could not see the “statue” at the entrance of the company, but Dylan rushed out and blocked her way. Fortunately, she was not driving at a high speed and was able to stop the car immediately. She lowered the car window and scolded, “If you want to die, don’t die under my tires, Mr. Dylan. I don’t want to dirty my tires.” “I’m sorry for choosing such a dangerous way to stop your car, Imogen. However, you wouldn’t have stopped if I didn’t do this,” said Dylan apologetically.

The city blurs — streetlights stretching into streaks of gold and white as I tear through intersections as if rules are optional suggestions. I hear the other bikes behind me, engines snarling, keeping up — or trying to. The song crashes into my head uninvited, loud and relentless, every lyric punching straight through my chest. Oh, oh whoa whoa oh whoa I’m an angel with a shotgun Fighting til’ the wars won I don’t care if heaven won’t take me back My jaw tightens. I lean forward, push harder, wishing like hell I was on my speedbike instead of the scrambler. The road feels too small. My body feels too full.

Anna's POV Harvey leaned over and turned up the volume of the music. Loud, energetic beats filled the car, making the whole vehicle vibrate. “Let’s turn this night into a party!” he shouted over the music, laughing as he started the engine. With the windows rolled down and the cool breeze whipping through my hair, we sped down the empty roads, the city lights blurring past us. The music pumped loudly, matching the wild rhythm of our hearts. I couldn’t stop smiling as we sang along to the songs, our voices blending with the wind.

Terrifying, right? It was quite boring to drive alone. But the longer I stayed on my lane, I realized driving alone and in silence made it extra boring. So, I decided to turn on my speaker and played some The Beatles’ song in my car. It worked for a while. Jamming with my all time favorite song of them called ‘Hey, Jude’ awakened the dying energy within me and made me feel motivated to speed up my drive to get home. But as the song ended, and as I draw nearer and nearer to the waiting area for the taxi cabs, I realized someone was walking alone on the street. She was on her brown fitted skirt, and a white sleeveless top. Her hair was straight but a little messed up, and from behind I could s

“And those fries smell amazing.” I unlock the Jeep and open the passenger door for her, then quickly go around and get in. Scarlet turns up the heat and plays with the radio as I drive us home, stopping on a classic rock station. “Living on a Prayer” is playing, and she looks at me with a smile before cranking the volume. We belt it out together, laughing and dancing in our seats. I don’t realize it until a car comes up behind me, but I’ve slowed down, going less than half the speed limit on this country road.

Walter Lambert, an old man walking his dog nearby, called out, "That's a Rolls-Royce Phantom! There are only a few in the whole country!" Dexter Welch, the security guard at my apartment complex, froze for a moment before bursting into laughter. "Are your eyes failing you? A Rolls-Royce? In pink?" He smacked Walter's hand away when the old man tried to stop him. "This wretched woman is that Toyota Corolla driver. She probably slapped a fake exterior onto some cheap junk car. Did you actually fall for it?"