Boxed up all of her favorite things. Sold the rest at a rainy yard sale.
Big plans of leaving friends and a westbound sign.
Weighed out her choices on a scale, prevailing nothing makes sense.
Just transportation and a blank decision.

She's taking off.
Taking off.
Taking off.
Taking off.

No time, and no copping out. She's burning daylight and petrol.
Blacked out the rear view mirror heading westward on.
Strung out on confusion road. A ten minute nervous breakdown.
Xanax, a beer for thought, and she's determined.

She's taking off.
Taking off.
Taking off.
Taking off.

Oh, is it salvation, or an escape from discontent?
Will she find her name in the California cement?
Punched out of the grind that punched her one too many times.
Is tragedy two thousand miles away?

She's taking off.

Alright!