That car, that rolls through the night,
heads for the woods.
Yet, it still calmly obeys the stoplight.
There's something in the trunk. Childhoods,
Dreams, freedom, change.
There's a body in that trunk.
Though her name will fade from our memories
with each passing day.
Soon, other cars will drive bearing the same load in other cities.
And when they stop, we will feel the deathly pain of a quiet day.
The first of many lies dying in that trunk.
Her name is hope.
The world has taken her.