My Way Home
The sign will read "102 miles to Beaumont" - She'll turn up the music
As recursive confusion turns you to some invertebrate eunuch
Driving to uncertain conclusions - "You didn't need to do that back there"
Then she'll muss your matte-black hair - you'll make a conservative crooning
That means "Well we have to keep running - and why spare bullets?"
But she's unaware, full of thought when she says this songs means something
Between the strange kudzu trees you two thieves will keep running
She'll say that songs take you back to moments, "Have you heard this before?"
Against the future's ominous blur, you recall a time past. Perfect and pure.
You'll say "It's been a while" - but you won't be talking to her
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