barely alive on 2 AM airline My past is just the places I've passed The windows were tinted My eyes were half shut My focus is fragile If my heart is a glass Here lies the ruins of a little known author There go the ashes of a dying dream It's hard to sit down When your hometown is a greyhound Now I'm exhausted and There's no time to sleep I'm gathering leaves from A once beautiful tree Which no one else will have The chance now to see Or climb It burning miles at a time It's mine is mine