Escape the fading credits and swear you’re not done here- the weight of unfinished business.
“Sorry Mom”, “I’ll pick it up, next time”.
I’m at least good for that.
You miss me more now than ever.
Someday I will long for my own kids- and they won’t answer the phone when I call.
The diminished returns, always returning for more…
Inside this vehicle, moving steady with no destination, and no self control.
I’m safe inside, so I’ll just drive.
You had me scared for a while.
I thought you finally came around.