Pockets of warm and cold
Up hills
Down to lights ahead
Small sea of lights
Under moon.
Gas stations close.
Fuels low
Bleeding
Tired
Hungry
Moments rest
Endless yellow lines
Death’s head leading
Racing through the edge of the universe
Ripping the nothing
Towns may come
And may go
Too fast
To see
City by the river
Calling
Rest our heads
Early rise
Sun
Petrol
On our way
again
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