Act like we didn’t see the cars on the side of the Meadowbrook, cracking windows just to breathe a shot of fresh air and the cold November breeze.
When it descends, this silence is deafening. And its descends, and this silence is deafening.
And a ground that’s stained with leaves is all that I can see through the window and the yellow lines pacing above me from the back seat.
Getting high to pass the time, getting high all the time.
You do this far much, “I know”.
And this drive is just a getaway I could never get away from.
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