I put the pedal down, and I ride. I look around on both inside and outside.
I lean against the wheel and I slide. I have been cut into pieces of my own mind.

And it's real though I feel the sorrow. It might be a tribulation I know.
but if our bruises heal up tomorrow, it could be so fine;
we could leave in time to catch the sun.

I put the signal on, and get on the interstate;
looking back to better days from where I came.
I go from 91 and make a stop.
I buy some caffeine filled trucker pills to wake us up.

And it's real though I feel the sorrow. It might be a tribulation I know.
but if our bruises heal up tomorrow, it could be so fine;
we could leave in time to catch the sun.

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