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This river of road,
It donât flow like it used to.
But itâs more of a home
Than anywhere that Iâve ridden it to.
We used to dream together
But now I drink alone.
From the bottle to the tumbler
Is the only journey left I know.
And in my memories depths I retrace my steps.
I cannot find where I went wrong.
It was one fast move or Iâm gone.
I found out at an early age I could make anything or plane
Disappear or cease to exist if I turn my back to it.
And that the interstates, they donât connect
Where you are to what youâve left.
And the ghost of our dreams haunt the roads in between.
Though nothing could compare to the love we share
It just didnât have a place to belong.
It was one fast move of Iâm gone.
One fast move or Iâm gone.
One fast move or Iâm gone.
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