White Lies of the Freeway
I didn't wear a helmet that night
Just so the wind could clear my head
All my mistakes have first names
I hope the rain will wash my hands
Yellow fingers cut through highway
The horizon curves the white lines don't
Words of poets waft on the gasoline
I spread the ashes of my heart in the American sun
She is a ripple
And I am a chrome jackknife skirting the edge of her wake
I searched for freedom
In the stone of the two-lane, where secrets live in the dust
But I found nothing but capsized dreams
And I realized what I had become
First light crept in and peeled back my skin
I changed my clothes but not my mind
Forever a prisoner of the white lies of the freeway