It hits in a spiritual, delirious way
the taste of blood is the only reminder
of how much I enjoy the pain
I crashed the car and I lived
I roamed the highway searching for your ghost
only to find it moved on long ago
We travelled 500 miles in this chase
for euphoria; the few signs on the way
urging us to follow separate paths
You're gone and I'm trapped
within this memory, a period of stasis
Cursing the alleged 'free road'
that brought us to this standstill.
(You never were one to take a risk,
always pausing to play it safe)
These selfish lights refuse to shift
throwing us back to different ends
of the spectrum once again
Yet I'm pulsing red, devilish hues
for you for you for you
If I could, I would crash all over again
But your lips are the only collision I need
and I was never one to wear a seat-belt
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 4:24 AM UTC
It hits in a spiritual, delirious way
the taste of blood is the only reminder
of how much I enjoy the pain
I crashed the car and I lived
I roamed the highway searching for your ghost
only to find it moved on long ago
We travelled 500 miles in this chase
for euphoria; the few signs on the way
urging us to follow separate paths
You're gone and I'm trapped
within this memory, a period of stasis
Cursing the alleged 'free road'
that brought us to this standstill.
(You never were one to take a risk,
always pausing to play it safe)
These selfish lights refuse to shift
throwing us back to different ends
of the spectrum once again
Yet I'm pulsing red, devilish hues
for you for you for you
If I could, I would crash all over again
But your lips are the only collision I need
and I was never one to wear a seat-belt
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