Driving down the highway, hand out the window
And Im feeling my arm sway
And it dawned on me that love as I know it
Has the composition of the wind.
My hand outstretched and open,
The hot summer air pressing against it
Such force.
It’s deceiving,
That hands-full feeling.
Because every time I try to catch it,
Close my fist and grasp it,
It’s empty, I can’t have it.
This small ideology sets in,
Comparing love as it wears thin in me.
It’s not that I’m incapable of loving,
Because I am and my intentions are gold,
But I’m getting weary and growing old,
And I can’t clasp onto what is real and
What’s a lie, or when to fold.
It’s like I’ve been stripped of my emotions,
Cuz I’ve been tricked by my emotions,
And now I’m drowning in this ocean of terror.
Please believe me when I say I’m trying.
It’s not my fault the wind’s been lying.
Help me see what’s real or not,
Cuz I’m doing my best without my heart getting caught
In a web of lies,
A foundation of facades.
I’m clawing and scratching and tearing my way back up
From the grave I’ve dug,
I’ve got scraped knees and scars to prove it,
So bear with me, I’m trying.
And this is me, terrified and shaking,
But willing to let you in.
I’ve done my time and confessed my sins.
So, all I can say is,
Don’t become something I have to get off my chest,
Because my heart is strung,
And my luck is pressed.