Northbound on the turnpike/across vague acres/at evening's beginning.
...just happy/to be free again, talking about whatever with anybody, standing in line/with impunity on a Saturday for an Icee.
One of the romantic things Heaven and Driver did when they weren't Frenching in the driveway was make mixtapes for each other. I helped. One summer afternoon, Driver and I made a tape for Heaven.