The tires hum a melody low, As the ocean whispers its ebb and flow. Your hand rests lightly on the wheel, Golden light turns real unreal. I glance at you, you glance at me, What’s unspoken fills the sea. Oh, golden hour drive, where do you lead? Are we chasing time or letting it recede? Your smile’s a flicker, a flame that hides, Oh, golden hour drive, what’s left inside? The cliffs wear shadows like a cloak, While the horizon blushes, its colors spoke. Your laugh breaks through, a soft reprise, But I catch the distance in your eyes. Are we the sunset, are we the shore? Are we something less, or something more? The road unwinds, a ribbon of fate, Is it too early, or is it too late? Every mile a question, every turn a sigh, In the rearview, the sun starts to die. Oh, golden hour drive, where do you lead? Are we chasing time or letting it recede? Your smile’s a flicker, a flame that hides, Oh, golden hour drive, what’s left inside? The light fades, but the questions stay, The highway bends, and we drift away. The hum of the tires, the sound of the breeze, Golden hour’s gone, but it lingers in me.
