There is torture in the back seat.
Secrets spill like marshmallows, the bag ripped too freely.
Melted under thighs and backs.
Have you ever…
Hoped nobody heard what you just said?
Said a little too much?
Blushes and laughs,
Hurry up and sing a different song.
Imagine all the good times.
Words are shared,
Passed around with a bag of chips,
A bottle and a laugh.
Wish there was more room,
Then we could fit you too.
It’s a normal day tomorrow,
But we don’t care, do we?
It’s all their fault anyway,
Their burden to bear.
No one sleeps now anyway.
We’ll make it home.
Time flies too quickly.
Into the woods we’ll god,
We’ll pry the answers out,
Of witches, giants, bakers princes and women left alone.
Then we’ll arrive home.
Stand in the cold,
While no one drives by,
We’ll smile.
Returned messages bring disappointment,
A ride even more.
We’ll live to see it again.