In a world between yellow lines and concrete rails
i roll down the window to let out my thoughts.
There are no streetlamps to light my way
Just the fluorescence of my own headlights
and a weak offering from the man in the moon
Inside the car the expansion of lung tissue creates a vaccum
and smoke rushes in to fill the void
while music blares from speakers;the sharp notes penetrate
and the wind greets my hair, they are old friends
In front of me the faint glow of tiny green numbers
beckons my attention but I have no regard for them
-there are more important matters at hand.
In the darkness doubt creeps across my synapses-
for I am in a no man's land
one life in front and another behind
The song expires and with it my mood
I roll up the window and shut out the night
as my foot becomes heavy on the accelerator
A hitchhiker's grin and a green field somewhere in the distance
these give me hope
so I press onward down this exitless highway.