outro

I guess this is the part where I tell you it's the end
But is it really?
I thought I told you in Temporary Friends
That the engine won't stop
And the doors are still locked
And the paint is all scratched from the places it fought
Don't get me wrong
The journey is lovely
I've met people that truly love me
And I am truly sorry
If I can't convey how much you truly mean to me inside an Mp3
Cause a CD are just waveforms of what I'm meant to be
I love you all
From the depths of my heart
I'm really sorry that this car had to draw us apart
I guess that's what happens
When we don't know where to start
Building a home
Cause we don't even know where we are
This isn't my best work
But it's not meant to be
It's just a way for me to breathe
It's just a way for me to be
Free
From the pressures of becoming something
I have fears that I'll grow old and still be nothing
Hoping for some spare change
Cause things in life change
I feel uneased at not knowing what's to come
What if this album I've been working on
Turns out to be my last one?
What type of memory will become of me once I'm all done?
I try to look out the window
Of the walls passing by
I see the colors from the paint on the walls on both sides
They're just scribbles on a wall
That'll fall
If you don't treat it right
If you don't nurture it every second
I just wish I could of said it
I'm sorry
Thank you grandma for not taking mine down
I wish this car was bigger
So it could take more people
Go on longer journey with people that I feel are equal
To happiness and love
I'm just scared of what my brain could be becoming of
This car is silent
But I guess that's why I write
It's just a way for me to talk about things that don't feel right
It's just a way for me to sit back and look up to god and ask
Why me?
Why me?
Why me?
I try to blame all misconnections
On going on the wrong direction
But without stopping to question
If it's me who can't relate
To people that hold me close
It's a form of self-protection
So I don't can't hurt
From all this misdirection
As I ride down the street
In this cab, I call my own
I start to wonder
If someday I'll ever call a stop a home
If the engine would just stop
And I could have those keys in hand
Open the front door
And keep a piece of land
Then I could walk to the back
Open the trunk and get my bag
Feel the power of the moment that I never really had
And store those keys in a place only I know
And finally, decide when it's my time to go