Drinking root beer, chugging Sprite
'Til our heads felt helium-light
It would last forever, we thought that night
And for a while, it seemed like it might.
But childhood morphed into something queer
Riddled with moth-eaten dreams and new fears
You escaped from that nowhere-place, memory seared
Their cries of "come back!" drawing blood from your ears.
You left one to slice at her skin, drawing scars
One feigned her disinterest, as high as the stars
The rest all forgot you when you left in your car
But for those two, two hundred miles never seemed so far.
And they hate you, they hate you, while denying they do --
Not as much as you can't stand yourself, this is true --
They don't know that in leaving you've been split in two
And the worst part is that you always, always do.