The Wheel - Okta Logue

Laura, my dear, I watch you sway in the wind

As another gray year in suburbia ends

But you are still here, tired of making amends

Bored, you flip through past messages sent

Why don’t we play your old favorite game?

Count the dark clouds and drive through the rain

Are we just waking up ghosts?

Hold the wheel though the road is unstable

I close my eyes ‘cause I know that you’re able

Now you whisper, ‘I'm home'

And you’re counting the lines as they go

In the headlights, in the cold

Laura, my dear, a phone plays that «Sugar Town» song

At the end of the pier, where the slot machines rang

Fifteen years back when we stole your dad’s gun

Shooting at cans in the afternoon sun

As the sirens approached, we decided to run

To hide in the trees, but the damage was done

But you were telling me jokes

Hold the wheel though the road is unstable

I close my eyes ‘cause I know that you’re able

Now you whisper, ‘I'm home'

And you’re counting the lines as they go

In the headlights, in the cold

You keep counting the stripes on the road

All whispers are told, and you’re hiding your hands from the cold

Little princess, we’ve grown old