Along a slow highway
Can't merge with the interstate circumventing...
You and me.
Lost in reverie
Seen by none
On a lonesome road past his buried son
In a broken down cemetery.
We still remember how to run,
And we do, just to escape ourselves.
What was then, will be no more,
Like the crumbling pages of a forgotten book,
On a dusty shelf in an old farm house,
We look and see ourselves.
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You can't escape time and change.