Something about time and space
and the holes in the soles of my shoes
So many think
"too young"
"So naive"
but if they knew about the miles
God damn the miles
hours of loneliness
hours of loveliness
and hours of infinite thought
the passing greenery
the dotted lines in the middle of the road
the road...
oh God the road
Young? yes
but naive... f**k you
Something happens between
the days
the weeks
the months
the years
the miles
the sounds
the faces
and the aches in my bones
the aches in my mind
Every step forward fills the void
the void opened by every mile left behind
What do you know of time and space?
What ages you more
years?
miles?
Cigarettes butts?
empty bottles?
broken shoe laces?
ripped jeans?
table scraps?
or an empty curbside?
an orchestration of my "young" life
Sounds of the road carry me home...
wherever that may be.