Maps.

Unwind like a ball of yarn
I'm slowly getting smaller
As the miles pass underneath
My feet and I grow tired
I have nothing left but to
Pull myself in but someone
Is standing on the other end
Stopping me from becoming

Whole again...
I need to regain my sight
My ability to touch
Has been greatly dulled and

I can't find a way to fix this
Hole that is in my ceiling
Rain somes dripping down on my
Face and it's keeping me from sleeping.

I waste away starting from Carolina
Making it's way across Texas pavement
I can't let go of the home I made out
In the deathly cold of the Midwest.
And as I reel it in I catch flowers
I catch letters I catch reasons to return
But I'll never call it home again.
I'll never show my face in those parts again.

My ears are ringing
Filled with traffic, and misleading
Road maps look like veins
And there's a piece of me in every one of them.