"J'ai bon caractère mais j'ai le glaive vengeur et le bras séculier. L'aigle va fondre sur la vieille buse.
- C'est chouette ça, comme métaphore.
- C'est pas une métaphore, c'est une périphrase.
- Oh fait pas chier !
- Ça, c'est une métaphore." 

In the day we sweat it out on the streets
Of a runaway American dream
At night we ride through the mansions of glory
In suicide machines
Sprung from cages on Highway 9
Chrome wheeled, fuel injected, and steppin' out over the line
Oh, baby this town rips the bones from your back
It's a death trap, it's a suicide rap
We gotta get out while we're young
'Cause tramps like us, baby, we were born to run
Yes, girl, we were

Wendy, let me in, I wanna be your friend
I wanna guard your dreams and visions
Just wrap your legs 'round these velvet rims
And strap your hands 'cross my engines
Together we could break this trap
We'll run 'til we drop, baby, we'll never go back
Oh, will you walk with me out on the wire?
'Cause, baby, I'm just a scared and lonely rider
But I gotta know how it feels
I want to know if love is wild
Babe, I want to know if love is real
Oh, can you show me

Beyond the Palace, hemi-powered drones
Scream down the boulevard
Girls comb their hair in rearview mirrors
And the boys try to look so hard
The amusement park rises bold and stark
Kids are huddled on the beach in the mist
I wanna die with you, Wendy, on the street tonight
In an everlasting kiss

The highway's jammed with broken heroes
On a last chance power drive
Everybody's out on the run tonight
But there's no place left to hide
Together, Wendy, we can live with the sadness
I'll love you with all the madness in my soul
Oh, someday, girl, I don't know when
We're gonna get to that place
Where we really wanna go and we'll walk in the sun
But 'til then, tramps like us
Baby, we were born to run

Oh honey, tramps like us
Baby, we were born to run
Come on with me, tramps like us
Baby, we were born to run

© 2015 by Justine et Bruno Tichadou