Okta Logue The Wheel
Laura, my dear, I watch you sway in the wind
As another gray year in suburbia ends
But you are still here, tired of making amends
Bored, you flip through past messages sent
Why don't we play your old favorite game?
Count the dark clouds and drive through the rain
Are we just waking up ghosts?
Hold the wheel though the road is unstable
I close my eyes ‘cause I know that you're able
Now you whisper, ‘I'm home'
And you're counting the lines as they go
In the headlights, in the cold
Laura, my dear, a phone plays that “Sugar Town” song
At the end of the pier, where the slot machines rang
Fifteen years back when we stole your dad's gun
Shooting at cans in the afternoon sun
As the sirens approached, we decided to run
To hide in the trees, but the damage was done
But you were telling me jokes
Hold the wheel though the road is unstable
I close my eyes ‘cause I know that you're able
Now you whisper, ‘I'm home'
And you're counting the lines as they go
In the headlights, in the cold
You keep counting the stripes on the road
All whispers are told, and you're hiding your hands from the cold
Little princess, we've grown old
