Lost Motel
Strung Out
A picture on the wall,
Like a postcard with a better view
Of all things still absent from room 209.
Diana sips from an empty glass
Of hope she poured last night.
The clouds above reflect
The shape of all she's gotta leave behind.
We always think there's something better
In the place where we are not.
In dreams, the reality of it all.
Nobody's happy where they're at
And we all want to be somebody else.
Another scribbled stationary book of lies.
Another staged confession
That just goes unheard.
Harry Detroit in 304
Made one last promise now,
"I'm going out without a trace,
A vanishing act before your eyes."
Nobody wants what they have got
And what they got is not enough.
In dreams, the reality of it all.
A lighter shade of green
The grass may be if I believe it's so.
Then I'll be home.
Here I go, uncertain that what I find
Is what I want.
The best for me is everything.
I reach for the same
As I what I'm running from.
I guess I'll never know.
Is it the struggle that we live for?
Is it keepin' us alive to breathe,
To want, to know, to love?
Just one more day,
Just one more way.
So here I go,
I'm half the way to home.
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