Thread:SUPER Serial/@comment-27317812-20160113101321

In my head, there's a Grayhound station, where I send my thoughts to far off destinations

so they may have a chance of finding a place where they are far more suited than here.

I cannot guess what we'll discover when we turn the dirt with our palms cupped like shovels

but I know our filthy hands can wash another and not one spec will remain.

I do beleive it's true that there are rugs left in both our shoes but if the silence takes you then I hope it takes me too

so frown as I hold you near, cus your the only son I want to hear, a melody softly soaring thru my atmosphere 