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....