Engine purrs, a beast in hibernation mode (버전 3)

Intro

Sweat drips like oil down the hood of my ride

Engine purrs, a beast in hibernation mode

Verse 1

Midnight streets are my cathedral, I worship at the altar of grey

Flickering streetlights cast shadows that dance on my wall

I'm a mausoleum for dreams, where hope goes to die slow

Concrete tombstones bear the weight of every mistake I've known

My knuckles ache like a drumbeat in my chest

I'm a symphony conductor, conducting chaos, finding my best

In the depths of overpass darkness, I find my home

Where exhaust fumes mix with the scent of rain, it's where I belong

Pre-Chorus

Can you hear the sirens singing, calling me out to play?

A night without danger is a night without fame

Chorus

I'm chasing static in the headlights, my heart beats like a crash

I'm living on the edge of nothing, but this feeling's all I grasp

Every turn, every twist, every chance I take

I'm chasing static in the headlights, for the rush that I make

Verse 2

Headlights casting shadows on walls as I drive by night

My speedometer a heartbeat in my hand, accelerating through the dark of life

Highway patrol's just a silhouette, a phantom of the law

In this endless chase, I'm the only one awake

Cities sleep while I keep pace with my shadow self

The cityscape blurs into a smear as I ride, no destination to tell

Pre-Chorus

Can you hear the sirens singing, calling me out to play?

A night without danger is a night without fame

Chorus

I'm chasing static in the headlights, my heart beats like a crash

I'm living on the edge of nothing, but this feeling's all I grasp

Every turn, every twist, every chance I take

I'm chasing static in the headlights, for the rush that I make

Bridge

In rearview mirrors, cities disappear into dust

As I leave the world behind, with each mile, a piece of me is lost

But this pursuit, it fuels my fire, it's where I find my soul

In the echoes of highway silence, I hear my heart beat whole

Outro

Fading city lights a dying ember in my rearview screen

The night wears off like a worn-out glove, but the rush remains.