With RadioHead blasting out from my 77' Camaro, we look a leap of faith and eloped from her father's estate
Leaving behind the fake plastic trees and paper towns - singing freedom songs, our hearts lift and liberate
The night sky - a blanket of stars guiding us on our path - jagged cliffs looming ahead, but we're not afraid
It's a lilac liberation - precariously earned; it's a farce - fool's play, but we're going along anyway
Cheap wine coursing through our systems - cheap fuel through the car engine - we're yet unaware of our destination...
Her dress is frayed, hair greyed - her hands soft and wrinkled - but around the corners of her mouth a small smile still plays
My heart tears -
Her laughter still rings throughout the valleys we escaped.
