Home
Nineteen years, eleven weeks, and thirty two days
Nothing left to explore
You've got my good side, bug

Seven hundred and forty eight
Eight weeks here is long enough
Thoughts wander everywhere but south
No job, no money
Stuck again

Three thousand, one seventy seven
Who needs to have a plan, I don't
I'll pay it off when I get there
Twelve weeks, I said
Month six, still here and bored
Can't go east
North it is

Two hundred eighty five
Not quite a straight shot, but almost
Got stopped at the border
I look suspicious
I'm American
Five hours later
Oh sweet travel bug
In Montreal