There’s a freedom in this loneliness,
a friend that’s on this road,
a woman in this heartache
and flesh upon this bone.
I did a hundred clicks today.
I know not where I aim.
I’ve given up the arrow
and scrubbed away my name.
So, really, there is nothing left
and girls are quick to flee:
no longer lining up like crowds
for the hero that was me.
Me, the man that can’t resist
the highway and it’s kin.
Me, the man that’s hungry
and hasn’t had a win.
And, really, when it comes to truth,
I’m just as far away.
But I’ll miss this life when I tire out
and I’ll wish it back some day.
No comments:
Post a Comment