Tell me I don’t hear me on the radio
While my wheels fall down the road,
Up to your mountain inside the snow.
Come on, get me there, bring me home.

Tell me my thoughts don’t buzz like a rodeo,
While all my wheels trot past those
Sleeping in everyday, don’t they know?
We’re gone, get us there, bring it home.

Can you sing outside yourself?
Do you ever get tired of the shelf?
Can you stop when you’ve been filled?
Do you ever live for the next thrill?

My wind chime rang, it changed my course.
Radio static, rodeo – I kicked it all, I left the port.
Climbed through books I knew, I flew away.
Got coffee, got clean. 10am, a new day.

Now, tell me I don’t see the wind blow.

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