Every road says freedom When you’re standing still That’s how it gets you I left with one coat, two shirts in a bag Old notebook folded where the train ticket sat No plan on the page, just a town crossed out And a voice in my head saying, "Find another route" First night, roadside room by a burned-out sign Blue light through the blinds, quarter after nine Ice machine coughing in the hall all night I kept my shoes on like the door might bite The clerk said, "Where you heading?" I said, "Anywhere north" He laughed like he’d heard that answer before Said, "Every man comes through here chasing open air Then wakes up in the morning and finds himself there" I shrugged, took the key, room twenty-three Put the television on so it could talk instead of me Saw a weather map flashing red over the state Another storm moving east, another reason not to wait So I drove before sunrise with the heat turned low Past factories sleeping under six feet of snow Thought the miles in the mirror meant the past got small But distance doesn’t shrink it It just changes the walls Open roads lie They say, "Leave and you’ll be free" Open roads lie They keep bringing you to me Every mile takes something Every town asks why I keep driving But open roads lie Met a woman at a station with a red wool hat She was reading old letters from a man coming back Said he’d been gone seven years, maybe eight, maybe ten She still bought two coffees every Sunday for him I said, "You really think he’s coming?" She said, "That’s not the point" Then the train pulled in screaming through the rain and the noise Nobody stepped off with the face in her hand Still she smiled at the doors like they might understand Two towns later, guy named Leon fixed my tire Hands black with oil, cigarette hanging by the fire Asked what I did, I said, "Mostly move on" He said, "That’s not a living, that’s a long goodbye song" That one stayed with me More than I wanted it to Like the sound of old brakes when the mountain cuts through Like your name in the margin of a map I threw away Like the motel lamp flickering at the end of every day I kept collecting strangers like receipts in the dash Little proofs I had existed where the headlights passed Every person had a reason, every town had a scar Every road sold tomorrow from the back of a car But the sky never opened The signs never spoke The horizon looked holy till the daylight broke Then it turned into asphalt, exits and wire Another cheap promise dressed up like desire Open roads lie They say, "Leave and you’ll be free" Open roads lie They keep bringing you to me Every mile takes something Every town asks why I keep driving But open roads lie I came back one winter, didn’t tell anyone Same street, same corner, same weak yellow sun The old store was empty, church sign bent Your building had a new lock, half the windows for rent I stood across the road with the engine still running Like the car knew the truth and was scared I’d start trusting Saw a kid on the steps where we used to sit Same nervous hands, same oversized fit For a second I thought every year folded shut Like I could walk through that door and recover enough But memory is a landlord, always raising the rate Makes you pay for the room long after you vacate So I didn’t knock Didn’t call Didn’t stay Just watched one upstairs curtain move out of the way Maybe somebody saw me Maybe nobody did Maybe the road was the only thing keeping the lid I used to think leaving made a man hard to hold Now I know it just teaches him new kinds of cold You can outrun a city, outrun every friend But the self in the passenger seat knows where you’ve been And the truth is, I liked it The motion, the blur The clean little lie that I wasn’t still hurt The gas station glow, the late-night lanes The freedom of becoming a stranger again But every road bends back in the shape of a name Every fresh start carries old smoke in the frame And every time I say, "This is the last goodbye" The engine turns over And the open road lies Maybe freedom isn’t leaving Maybe it’s knowing What follows you And driving anyway So now I keep the notebook but I don’t cross towns out I write with....
