Low drones of machines keep my lonely brain at bay.
Lines created by the road give my eyes a sullen dream to follow and read.
The stale air inside my cabin disguise the passage of time and day.
As the sun slowly kisses the earth, gentle reminders of cities past help my lungs to breath.
Exhale now, good. Exhale the exhaust of salivating specters tracking my every mistake.
Maybe if I can go fast enough and far enough they just might leave.
Breath now they've fallen behind me now; or at least as far as I can see.
Maybe if I can go fast enough and far enough they might just leave.
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