The memories of my mind do not lay silent
They whisper every word they can in the hallows of my ear
And they cry for me
Some days all I find myself doing is crying back
Calling out for the times
And recalling the moments
The moister of the night,
The shaking of my voice
The drum of our hearts
We all want to get away
Before the presence can catch up to us
Before it can move us
The trees have not lost their meaning
And the roads o the road tear me up inside
I cannot get away from this
This that cannot get away from me
