bucolic

Take the highway to the end of the night
End of the night, end of the night
Take a journey to the bright midnight
End of the night, end of the night


For years I've been searching. Searching for something I haven't been able to find anywhere. At times, I thought I had come close. But what I reached for shimmered away like a heat mirage on steaming July asphault. And now I'm not sure if it even exists anymore. Or could it be that it's ME who is not really here?


Realms of bliss, realms of light
Some are born to sweet delight
Some are born to sweet delight
Some are born to the endless night
End of the night, end of the night
End of the night, end of the night


Maybe it's my constant questioning of others motives that has prevented me from finding it. After all, I can't seem to get next to anyone without keeping them locked in the corner of my eye. Distrust? Yes, that seems to be quite possible.


Realms of bliss, realms of light
Some are born to sweet delight
Some are born to sweet delight
Some are born to the endless night
End of the night, end of the night
End of the night, end of the night


This road goes nowhere and all the exits are closed.