Driving down the highway to a place that's not in mind,
late at night, I've lost the sun and all concept of time
The clock strikes twelve, a new days comes, but the past still flashes by,
I cruise through stills of yesterdays, the film strip becomes my guide
All of those I used to know come grace my passenger seat
One by one they visit, tell a tale, leave, repeat
Insanity is all that I can think of to explain
These moments can't be real, perhaps a product from my brain,
But oh, how real these flashes are, almost to the touch,
which makes me realize all that I am missing way too much
I'll never speak to what I've seen that's packed in the canister
And never will they be exposed by developer and fixer