If you're looking for solace, or some name-brand escape, well, I wrote the book on the clean getaway. So eager to say that there's nothing worth missing but my notebooks all burdened with words hard to relate. So hand me the paint, I'll go over the faces that your kid drew in crayon on college-rule lines. A weekend away in a neighboring state. A message left says "goodbye", and never gets played. If what I got back was what I have given my pockets would burst at the seams; some matches, a jacket, and a hollowed-out heart. They all make for light traveling. With a head full of questions and a gas tank on empty you left for the coast in an off-white sedan. I jigsaw my maps and throw darts at the pieces, try losing myself to find out where I am. You're up and down like the sun. Bright and dark as the moon. You're here for today, you'll be gone sometime soon. It's the light in your eyes, and the proof that you needed the world has a way to erase where you've been. It's the features of strangers, all these vague intersections and the failures of friendships when the cards are all down. I'm the whispered incessance, I'm the soft reassurance of the voice in your head that says life's just for now. So you prepay your penance for the evil you do. You've make your mistakes, you admit to a few. Forget all the faces of you misplaced affections, take a chance, pack your bags, and then up and skip town. I followed the footsteps I found in the sand and they end where the tide comes in, you might see a pattern, but there's no sort of plan. It all hinges on where you stand.