Splattered animals painting the highway, nothing to talk about, we got another show, another state to get out.
the next city over I measure my regrets in fluid ounces. Talk off my thoughts of minimum wage and failed college classes
Mangled flesh on the turnpike, I see my self in what's left of its eyes but I still have time. Can't put music to decades of life, Sonically impossible, not enough notes. All we have here is hope..
Last dead deer till home looks calm in a way. Even with its guts strewn across all the lanes. Morbid and relaxed. Final resting place. I sit back and watch it decay. Insides of insects impact on the glass. I wipe them away and pay my respects.
accident reported. We all love to watch. makes me sick as I sit in the gridlock. hard to think while all the crows are getting fed. Off the next exit and back to the shed. Back home again to sleep in my own bed. Feels bitter sweet but at least I'm not dead. Trying to remember what the last bartender said. Homes not far away its all in your head.
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