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Aug 2014
I run down highways like your lips run down the veins of my arm.
Your eyes shine better than any headlight.
Trying to find your voice in the growl of the engine.
Strife sings from the radio and I can't find my exit.
What good is a map if you carry the destination inside your soul?
Sundowner
Written by
Sundowner  Kalamazoo
(Kalamazoo)   
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