I-40

KS282698

Seven hundred miles from the beginning
when we've already reached the end.
Interstate 40 clutches the horizon
while the sun, she ascends.
Nobody knows what I'm thinking;
differences I see only one.
This clamp is tight on my eyelids,
and my words are silenced before they're done.

Hey.
I'm going home.
Hey.
I'm almost home.

Red Bull makes up for the sleep I've lacked.
Staying up in silence and hearing the news
of the party that I missed last Friday night
where they drank and drank and laughed 'til they cried.
It's all bullshit; it's bullshit that I can see through--
the same bullshit that I'm already used to.

Arkansas gives me a platform to ride:
to drive, to sleep; it's hard to survive
when your shoes have been shaved off your feet
and the floor underneath is liquid from the heat.
Soon you're drowning, drowning in your debate:
the question if she can relate.

Hey.
I'm going home.
Hey.
I'm almost home.

Highway 7 to 46,
familiarity and comfort of here is gone.
But I speed through the stop signs and traffic lights.
Nowhere to be, the destination is failure,
so I'm fucked, I'm fucked 'cause I don't know
where my heart is and where is home.

Hey.
I'm going home.
Hey.
Where is home?

mysticweed

KS282698 wrote:

Seven hundred miles from the beginning
when we've already reached the end.
Interstate 40 clutches the horizon
while the sun, she ascends.
Nobody knows what I'm thinking;
differences I see only one.
This clamp is tight on my eyelids,
and my words are silenced before they're done.


Arkansas gives me a platform to ride:
to drive, to sleep; it's hard to survive
when your shoes have been shaved off your feet
and the floor underneath is liquid from the heat.
Soon you're drowning, drowning in your debate:
the question if she can relate.

wow
i mean
WOW