| These days are made of leaving home
|
| But every thought is of returning
|
| In between is simply known
|
| For the gasoline I’m burning
|
| Drop the bags inside the door
|
| Out of habit pause to listen
|
| It’s the same as before
|
| There’s always something that feels missing
|
| But not the ghosts and snakes I’ve swept away
|
| Though that seemed as good a place to start
|
| I go forward
|
| Or fall back
|
| Forge ahead
|
| Or veer off track
|
| Flaming out
|
| We fade to black
|
| Stars careening in their crosses
|
| Someone’s always
|
| Just ahead
|
| Heels dug in
|
| Or being led
|
| Nothing’s perfect
|
| I once said
|
| And I’ve learned to cut my losses
|
| But I could not fix the broken part
|
| And a tear-stained heart
|
| I filled my passport with the miles
|
| Dawn is breaking out the window
|
| Climb the steps and walk the aisles
|
| Just another moving shadow
|
| You know it’s easier to be
|
| All alone instead of lonely
|
| Yet I know some part of me
|
| Feels a part of you still always be
|
| Way down deep where it will not be seen
|
| But there’s no doubt that you have left your mark
|
| You go forward
|
| Or fall back
|
| Forge ahead
|
| Or veer off track
|
| Flaming out
|
| We fade to black
|
| Stars careening in their crosses
|
| Someone’s always
|
| Just ahead
|
| Heels dug in
|
| Or being led
|
| Nothing’s perfect
|
| You once said
|
| The king of all lost causes
|
| But I still wait for you because I’m not
|
| In my tear stained heart
|
| These wondrous days we travel fast
|
| And the clearer I am seeing
|
| Trade the baggage of the past
|
| For the likeness of being
|
| I am studying the stars
|
| All 88 constellations
|
| I can sense you from afar
|
| From my earthly destinations
|
| And in the wind and every highway song
|
| A match that strikes or in a random spark
|
| We go forward
|
| Or fall back
|
| Forge ahead
|
| Or veer off track
|
| Flaming out
|
| We fade to black
|
| Stars careening as they beckon
|
| It’s just open road ahead
|
| The sound of twilight
|
| Maps unread
|
| Nothing’s perfect
|
| It’s been said
|
| This is pretty close I reckon
|
| And I learned more than I’d have ever thought
|
| From a tear-stained heart |