some highway candles are burning like flies and we have spent the long summer chasing each other by building walls and ditches which last long into the night, when day falls we are apart we can never see straight on the road I haven't time to make you real in fact I feel myself fading too now who says there's a space between days? if all our clocks melted today maybe we could go free.
= END =
(unpublished)
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Reviews of "midnight, route 78"
Reviewed by Thomas Duncan (Reader)
Reviewed on June 21, 2008
It takes me back to our golden days. Thanks to the author.
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