I was driving back

From the city of rails

City of tales

City of wales

Like a nightingale

When we stopped at store where we marked out trails

Where the cigarettes stale

And we sat in silence

I was going through an ocean of betrayal

I cried with the wind come rescue me

Pretending to be angry and bitter

like the cold of the empty winter

I spent alone

Enjoying the snow

Looking out through the basement window

We drove down to The east of us