| Got in the car and the cold metallic scent of snow
|
| Caught in my throat as I reached out to turn on the radio
|
| The unfamiliar songs, the voices sing of love
|
| And of wanting to dance and to sing in the rhythm of
|
| The road was overwhelmed with snow piled high in all the ditches
|
| I drove as though I did not understand all the divisions
|
| The yellow signs and the painted lines
|
| And the order they envisioned was so clear
|
| I joined the steady line of cars on the highway
|
| As though I was going home, but I drove the wrong way
|
| Past the looming walls of subdivisions
|
| Out past the strip malls, white fields, and gas stations
|
| I wanted just to call you then, but still I knew I couldn’t
|
| I left you back at home because I simply could not do it
|
| Tell you I could be with you when I could see right through it
|
| Our whole life
|
| But what if I misjudged
|
| In the wildest of emotion?
|
| I took this way too far
|
| The highway disembodied from the rest of my experience
|
| A narrow band of ice that stretched across the disappearance
|
| Of the central plan, the guiding hand
|
| The keeping-up appearance of a life
|
| But what if I misjudged
|
| In the wildest of emotion?
|
| What if I misjudged
|
| In the wildest of emotion?
|
| Did I take this way too far? |