Opening the door gently
Sliding my body onto the cold leather seats
I don’t know where I’m going,
but my hands do
My foot rhythmically switches from the brake to the gas
Something it’s done a million times
but it seems to be a little out of practice
There’s snow falling
As if to cover up my tracks
It knows I shouldn’t be here
In what seems like an instant,
my headlights illuminate your street sign
and suddenly I’m conscious again
I don’t remember driving to your house,
but I’m not surprised that’s where I ended up