| This river of road,
|
| It don’t flow like it used to.
|
| But it’s more of a home
|
| Than anywhere that I’ve ridden it to.
|
| We used to dream together
|
| But now I drink alone.
|
| From the bottle to the tumbler
|
| Is the only journey left I know.
|
| And in my memories depths I retrace my steps.
|
| I cannot find where I went wrong.
|
| It was one fast move or I’m gone.
|
| I found out at an early age I could make anything or plane
|
| Disappear or cease to exist if I turn my back to it.
|
| And that the interstates, they don’t connect
|
| Where you are to what you’ve left.
|
| And the ghost of our dreams haunt the roads in between.
|
| Though nothing could compare to the love we share
|
| It just didn’t have a place to belong.
|
| It was one fast move of I’m gone.
|
| One fast move or I’m gone.
|
| One fast move or I’m gone. |