'What did you expect me to say '
he says to himself
no one else around,
' On this long lonesome highway'
' Theres just me, and the faint sound '
' Of wings, , , , hovering '
Checking the rearview mirror
he glances at his image
wondering what else is in store
this and every other night
has become
his marathon
Racing his shadow
toward the dawn
' I know you're there '
he says to thin air
someone is there
something can hear,
'Lets stop at the roadhouse'
'Get a beer'
It has time, it can wait
He'll come out
sooner or later
Theres no set time
for someones fate.
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