The road begins at my door.
A quick right, then left, just one
and on for seven miles. Seven.
It's seven miles till I get there and the sun,
the sun's still shining bright. So bright.
The kind of bright that hurts. It hurts
my head. Makes it ache. And as I reach
your place, that dull ache reminds me.
Reminds me
you aren't home.

I sit behind the wheel and watch.
I watch the sun drop. It drops.
It drops like you did, expected, but
too soon, too quick. So quick,
my aching head spins.
My aching, spinning head.
For a minute, a quick minute,
I forget. I forget that
you aren't home.

It's like it was back then, at least for
just a minute. My spinning gets me
spinning, thinking I might see, I
might see your smile,
that smile that tells me, it
tells me that I'm not alone.
But I am alone. Alone. Alone
because you're gone. But I forget,
I forget that you are gone,
for a minute I forget that
you aren't home.

I remember. My head drops to
the wheel when I remember.
I remember with an ache. The ache.
The hollow in my chest. The tears
try to escape, but I don't let them.
I look at your door. Your door is swimming.
Your door is swimming in my tears.
The tears that I won't let fall
from my eyes. My eyes.
My eyes ache for you. For your smile.
Your beautiful smile. But you,
you aren't home.

I turn myself around. I turn around
real quick. So quick. So quick that I
forget. I almost forget my way.
I nearly forget my way
back home. I forget the seven
miles. Seven. Those seven miles
have become, they've become eternity. Eternity. Eternity
because you, my love,
you aren't coming home.