Like a swarm of flies colliding with a moving windshield So are our lives on this never-ending road I have left behind my mark only to be later washed away And was consumed with the allure despite the inevitable decay
When did the road that I'm on become my only home? When did this become the one place I truly know? (I truly know)
A journey making us like weeds Where the wind steals our splendor But spreads it to the distant fields Despite our fragile imperfections Yet shaking walls and wearing wheels Can never capture my heart the way you do
When did the road that I'm on become my only home? (my only home) When did this become the one place I truly know?