Running on fumes

It's a long and winding road we're on, paved by God's own hand
No skid marks marring the virgin asphalt
Or gravel
Or just dirt sometimes, marked with potholes
Sometimes you've got to go your own way, and I understand
It's easier to navigate the holes for you
And to dodge the deer you don't see til it's almost too late
I know it, I've felt it, I've driven alone and needed that time
But these old tires are getting pretty flat
My battery's running low, the AC's dying
So when you're ready buddy
I'll be waiting for you at the next station