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Cave In

de Austin Meade

500 miles, I stop to write a postcard
it's a long way back
words on a card, are less than consolation
for the things you lack

past the deadline, call from a landline
but you can't make somebody understand
all you can handle, blow out the candle
and it goes round and it goes round again

500 miles, with love like medication
and my hands are tied
weeds to the door, so much deliberation
you could lose your mind

past the deadline, wait for the green light
but you can't see the end before you start
fade like a fashion, the moment is passing
and I can't stay much longer in the dark

500 miles, through the open window
as the train goes by
500 miles, is maybe all I needed just to get it right
all I need, all that goes...comes around ...all I need...to get it right

past the deadline, riding a thin line
the turns of poetry and circumstance
all you can handle, I'm at a standstill,
and it goes round and it goes round again...

500 miles, somewhere over Kansas,
where the storm goes by
500 miles, is maybe all I needed
just to get it right...all I need...to get it right

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