This looks like a long haul,
never ending road,
where dreams seem impossible,
another horizon greets me, cold.
Soul is still untouchable,
but so is love,
or so I’m told.
This world has lost its hold
on me;
I’m gonna go.
How is it still dark?
Why am I still running
with my high beams on?
It isn’t easy to describe
the place that you are
through the windshield of a car.
I’ve got to keep going.
There is no place,
here or there,
for my kind.
Got to keep it moving,
only at the end
of this stretch
might I be satisfied.
I don’t want to live
like I’m watching the end.
I’m not doing this just to die,
but there’s a part of me,
whenever I settle down,
that just wants to get
in the car
and drive,
until the road ends.
HG – 2021
