Verse A:
Hitting the road alone.
To the Pacific Coast.
Into the racing zone.
There I can tear the most.
Verse B:
Crossing the beach at dawn.
In front of Malibu.
Sirens are wailing on.
Followed by cops in view.
Verse C:
U-turn at Monterey.
Still cops are in the rear.
Heading back to LA.
I shift the highest gear.
Chorus:
Highway 1.
On the run.
Highway 1.
Can be fun.
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