What A Long Strange Trip

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what a long strange trip
through alleys and bars,
smoky rooms with broken lights
and neon signs flickering like dying stars.
I’ve seen drunks, lovers, killers,
all looking for something
they thought they’d lost
a lifetime ago.

the road stretches on,
highways and dirt paths,
my car rattling like it might fall apart,
but it hasn’t yet.
I’ve met faces I don’t remember
and forgotten the ones that mattered,
like ghosts that slip through your hands
when you try to hold them.

sometimes it’s just me and the radio,
static filling the gaps
between my thoughts,
and I laugh because
hell, what else is there to do?
a long strange trip, alright,
and we keep rolling,
fuel running low,
still pushing on,
waiting for the next town,
the next night,
the next bad decision.

you call it a journey,
but it’s just me,
chasing shadows
down an endless road
with nothing but dust
and dreams.