the orange of the fire — the catch of the barbed wire
running through the woods can cost — across your chest your breath you’ve lost
we got here by back roads — the turns the breaks the hills that roll
seconds i would realize I never want to close my eyes
and here we are — we’re flying through the scenery
i hope you turn your head — to see the moon has set
miss it every time it goes — the further on the less i know