Possessions packed and playlist tracked
The currency, the paperback
The mp3 the low-in-tar
The CCD, the SLR
Protection from the sun above
That beats down like a boxing glove
The arid strip that doesn’t change
The shadow of the mountain range
The beaten track we leave behind
The hungry pack, collective mind
We seek the heat, we curse the rain
And try to find ourselves again
And though my mind feels like the mist
On the horizon’s mountain tip
I try to order all my thoughts
Into this book that’s on my hip
All these words just take an age
I have to write them out to see
But there’s a drawing on this page
I like to think you made for me
Never felt so lost
Never felt so far from home
Never lost for words it’s true
Never felt so far from you
And with a continent this size
We’ll try to stick to where we grew
But always looking to the skies
We know that really isn’t true
We cost ourselves in hours and days
We have the pictures and the scars
We lost each other in the haze
We can’t remember who we are
