Ninety-Five

I can just make out your face
In the moonlit dark
The ocean waves and grazing wind
Are your only remarks

I can hear the whole world falling apart

I could suffocate in a cigarette cloud
I could drink myself to death
I could find some man to help me out
And he could carve in me regret

I can see your resignation and I can only speculate:

Oh, whatever may have been wrought
On medians of 95
Where rival winds pick up the thoughts beside?

Oh, what mess has been brought
In the car tonight?
What have I sought? What home will I find?

I can hear the creaking wood
The loudest lock and key
But it's all awfully quiet now
As sun rolls through the leaves

I can hear every joke and every cry from afar

I can tell just by your face
Reflected off the road
This moment could go on forever
But I think we both know

I can wait here forever. I can wait and wait and wait...

Oh, whatever will be wrought
On medians of 95
Where rival winds pick up the thoughts beside?

Oh, what mess has been brought
In the car tonight?
What have I sought? What home will I find?