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WHERE THEIR HIGHWAY GOES
WHERE THEIR HIGHWAY GOES
(T. Beechey)
Someplace nestled in between the consequence and pain
Are all the moments over time where circumstance remains
And in between each moment is a space reserved for those
Who've wandered through but never found where their highway goes
There is no map that one can use to navigate the way
No signposts clearly point directions for travelers to obey
It's only by luck alone that journeys come to close
For those who've chosen to discover where their highway goes
You can follow in the footsteps of the ones who've tried before
But eventually you'l find yourself to be a tale of lore
An oft-repeated fable with this or that supposed
But always the seeker never finds where their highway goes
It is a journey best forgotten cause there's no success
No one has ever been declared, in either film or press
Of finding all the answers, relieving all their woes
To this day, no one can say where their highway goes
Someplace nestled in between the glory and the shame
Are the silhouettes of faceless souls, each devoid of name
And in between each silhouette there stands a single rose
To symbolize attempts to find where their highway goes
