[Split]

I'm neutral- her first. She said she'd like to do stick.
Taught her to climb and then fall as you slide through the shifts.
As streetlights creep by, I can't see why each night
it seems like we fight. Maybe we don't quite mesh.
In my own passenger seat, I'm as silent as death is.
Maybe I'm picky. Or slightly irreverent. Reach for the radio knobs-
we grind into second. Reassurance is cheap- I gave her a nod.
Listen to the gnash of the cogs on the synchros instead.
She steers right down a byroad I'd honestly skip... she drives slow,
clockwork- the odometer ticks. I stop her, and drive home.