Kyle: Don't tell me that you found another feeling that you belong when you obviously don't. 

Jon: We are the sparks between two rocks sneaking past suburban cops. Deep burning [bad word] on little flames we lit and hormonal static. We walk with our hoods up in the cold and all those pills made us invisible. Someone screamed my name from an escalade. Hormones wash in and take you away. 

Kyle: THe highway lines you trace ,your jugular, the veins that take you places and take you away.