[Intro] A freewheel hums into the night The asphalt glistens after rain The town fades softly behind me now And the road begins again [Verse 1] I’ve got a map inside my bag The names are worn and pale Too many beds without much sleep Too many climbs and trails The wind already knows my name The road knows where I’ve been I tell myself I have to ride But I don’t know what I’m chasing [Pre-Chorus] Maybe every distant horizon Only brings the same old view Maybe riding from yourself Is all that you know how to do [Chorus] I’m restless, always on the move As if the distance is my home I pedal until nobody asks Why I can’t stay still alone But when the wheels fall silent And the last roadside café closes down Is it time for me to find some rest? Or just another road to ride out of town? [Verse 2] A little room, a stranger’s bed The rain against the glass My bicycle leans beside the door While tired shadows pass The landscape rolls beneath my wheels In shades of gold and blue I keep collecting distant places But I don’t know where I belong to [Pre-Chorus] Maybe every new departure Is another name for flight Maybe you only become free When you stop riding through the night [Chorus] I’m restless, always on the move As if the distance is my home I pedal until nobody asks Why I can’t stay still alone But when the wheels fall silent And the last roadside café closes down Is it time for me to find some rest? Or just another road to ride out of town? [Instrumental Break] Cinematic electric guitar, mandolin and harmonica, soft tire sounds on wet pavement, gradual emotional build [Bridge] What if silence gives no answer? What if it only sounds more loud? What if a heart keeps turning Not because it’s found its place, but because it still wants out? Maybe rest is not a destination Maybe rest is just the time When you finally hear the direction Of the road that lives inside [Final Chorus] I’m restless, always on the move But tonight I won’t ride faster I’ll let the morning come to me And make the road a little brighter When the wheels fall silent And the last roadside café closes down The question stays beside me: Do you ever really arrive By choosing to stay around? [Outro] A bicycle rests beneath the morning light The wind moves through the land Maybe the next road doesn’t start out there Maybe it begins Right here beneath my hands
