the first time I ran wouldn't be the last

anything is possible

(to hope something is possible)

to escape

to search

a wrong turn made right

a reasonable expectation to jump

in the car

due north

it seemed natural

to scream at the night

what stands before us

what keeps us from seeing

the obvious

when I travel the roads

I tilt my head back

to gaze at the stars

and I can't see the comets

and I can feel toxic

right beneath my feet

when I look down

at my filthy toes

I can hear the laugh track

from above

and I can sense where we're headed

these tracks will lead me there

a stop back from where I am

in california

I've been here before

my, my

my friends

join me

to peer over the edge

to drift out of view

finally, a golden age

look out, here we come

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