My hands at one and eleven,
The yellow line darting by,
As I parallax through the night.
My thoughts are quiet,
The song of another world lulls me,
As it's the only sound that plays.
My eyes hardly even focus,
The night simply slips by,
As I grasp for feelings within.
The open window blows my hair gently,
The moon and stars feel so distant,
As I wish I could feel closer.
My shoulders relax into my seat,
The cold air brushes against me,
As I find my way home yet again.
