.


Pack it up ,



      yesterday you were seventeen . . .



now you're an empty sixity-eight . .



. . . and a little late to be running behind . . .



Highways , mountains , rivers and all those stars . . .


     all those lonely stars


I'll be leaving sometime after the midnight's bell


the dew will tell where I go



The future is my next step


my past recorded in wet grass


keep moving on


everyone needs a reason to believe


I'm running on empty


I'm running out of time


Running out of love


and now I am running some more


Let them know you've forgotten about your losses


And all your gains were washed away in rain




When you have no roots you run



chasing the last sunset of hollow yellows , grays and pinks ,


before the evening chill sets in


"What never was , will be no more ."

.
Cut me loose

     from these strings

          that bind.


So I might again

     exercise the freedom

          of mind.

.