It's strange because everyone remembers fondly their own road. Until one day they look back lost. In the dark alone and cold wondering how it got that way.
It seemed so sunny when they left.
I dream of the far off light in the night
coasting the distance of the hills
leading me on
believing there is hope
for without that dream there is no light to carry me home
Jul 14, 2015
Jul 14, 2015 at 11:04 PM UTC
It's strange because everyone remembers fondly their own road. Until one day they look back lost. In the dark alone and cold wondering how it got that way.
It seemed so sunny when they left.
I dream of the far off light in the night
coasting the distance of the hills
leading me on
believing there is hope
for without that dream there is no light to carry me home
