People in cars don't face each other

I drove alone to Buffalo

And scratched a heart around your name

At every rest stop vending machine I passed along the way

(I'd taken speed for days)

I took pictures from the car window

These colored blurs of time

And left them for you by the pay phones

Because I can't call or write

It's just been too much time

The road was without winter glow

Just dreary landscape

And the whimper of the radio

And a rubberbanded picture of your face

Around an old mixtape you'd made

I still think I'm going home

I packed my things in crooked lines,

And took a pill nicknamed hope

To change this mood of mine

This awful mood of mine

But I can't change this mood of mine

Like a mocking dog and pony show

In the backrooms of my mind

Like a swim in the undertow

I can't see it but I sure feel it alright

I miss you every night.