"White Montana" lyrics

Messages, I'm done with it, my sentences consecutive
But hey, who's keeping track of the time?
The trouble is that nothing gives me feelings like the high I get
When I'm doing that walk on your wire

So maybe I could catch you later
I've got a match and paper
Let's set ourselves on fire

I'm all tied up in your bandana in a white Montana
At the last stop left to gas up, kicking gravel off the asphalt
All tied up in your bandana in a white Montana
We just keep on catching fire in the backseat of your ride

Tangled in your denim and the sentiment irrelevant
Am I still in the back of your mind?
You watch me in the mirror as the power lines disappear
I know I'm somewhere in the back of your mind

So maybe I could call you later
I've got a match and paper
Let's set ourselves on fire

I'm all tied up in your bandana in a white Montana
At the last stop left to gas up, kicking gravel off the asphalt
All tied up in your bandana in a white Montana
We just keep on catching fire in the backseat of your ride

My mind makes up your picture
My memories turn into liquid
Dripping on everything
The smell and the taste of it
My God
Yeah there's no going back from there
Get a lighter
Let's set ourselves on fire

I'm all tied up in your bandana in a white Montana
At the last stop left to gas up, kicking gravel off the asphalt
All tied up in your bandana in a white Montana
We just keep on catching fire in the backseat of your ride