7 a.m. dusty road

I’m gonna drive until it burns my bones

Crossing a dream with my old lost care
Its smell brings the dead memories back

Crossing a dream. 

We didn’t need a story, we didn’t need a real world

We just had to keep walking

And we became the stories, we became the places

We were the lights, the desertes, the faraway worlds

We were you before you even existed