So every Saturday or Sunday of every few weeks my family drags me on a short road trip. Its not horrible and its only for the day, however these early hours are going to wear me out. I'm forced to wake up under the cover of darkness, get dressed, and be in the car by the time the sun is fully up. Then I have to sit for hours, usually without my iPod since it dies in about 30 minutes, in a car with them. Now remember we're all cranky, we're all tired, and we all are uncomfortable since our car is a Volkswagen, which is not the best car for a road trip no matter how short it may be. Then we get to whatever place we are traveling to that day, with directions provided by the infamous Map Quest, and we usually have to wait until it opens. Then we follow-up by only eating meals consisting of junk food from gas stations and fast food rest stops. So why do we do this insane, masochistically-seeming tradition? Well, there's always the hope of finding an old Beatles record, or ...
There are feelings that we must hide, For better or for worse, You all understand my verse. We push those emotions into a box, In the back of our hearts and minds, Locked away with steel and grind, Forgotten it survives, Until one day we fall back into eachothers lives, Then the traps are tripped, And the box breaks open, Pandora's box is opened. This is the path you choose, This is the reason for my blues.
Why is being selfless so against my nature? Try to do the right thing, So I'm not left alone with just my mind to keep me company, Because, man, is that a scary place to be alone in. But people come and go, And in the end we're all really alone.
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