Driving up slowly...
Park across the street.
Nobody should know where we meet.
Walking up slowly...
Wishing I was drunk.
At least that would explain my funk.

Now I’m peering,
Peeling off my skin.
There’s no healing;
It’s a game you can’t win.

Now I’m driving up slowly...
And making myself go home.
The things I do,
To let myself roam.
Now I’m driving up slowly...
Two hours before I’m home.
All this effort...
And nothing to show

Writing silently...
The words aren’t coming
Like I planned.
I pray someday that someone understands...
Because I don’t.

Driving alone,
Driving alone.
Home is not so lonely...
When I’m driving up slowly.
So, I’m coming home.
Yes, I’m coming home.