So if I go back through the dead roads, what would still be left in there? Wounds that ache us or the missing that breaks us? Memories we are no longer holding on to, a smell of dust after rain and a taste of bitterness in a cup of coffee, words we never meant and vows we thought we’ll never break, can you still hear them? Beyond each sunrise, where dawn gently rests upon the black sky, giving silence into the world, I will still be thinking of you.
I will still be thinking of you when nights last so long, I will still be remembering you when joys are missing you, I will still be fine but not enough to leave, for those dead roads shall always cross through me to reach out to where we once have been, going back to the places we left behind, secretly seeking of you, in streets and in chairs, beyond fields and trees, through rhythms and songs, so if I go back through the dead roads, I will still be finding you missing in there, so where were you my friend, leaving me behind in here !