it's been 22 hours heading south on a bus alone but not for long    my head hangs low, i'm so tired, i'm just waking up in georgia    we rode through fayetteville, chapel hill north carolina    places you don't know and never will    but who'd care if we had each other, head to shoulders and hands to mouth       but you're not here so how can i say that    when i know it's not fair that i even suggest that    but one day will come and one day we'll know where we could be       we can count the stars on the highway like they were exit marks    a mile between them and everyone a place with every place a found home    hearts with answers and emptys heads filled with words about how you left    we could be alright, and we could feel safe if we pretend every mile is home       but you're not here so how can i say that    when i know it's not fair that i even suggest that    but one day will come and one day we'll know where we could be       buses serve best to seperate, it's not evil but inappropiate    don't mean to sound cynicalbut i can't understand how you stay    i've got to tell you, i don't change my bedsheets don't even recognize my pillowcase    where we sleep doesn't change our dreams sometimes it's best just to run with it       but you're not here so how can i say that    when i know it's not fair that i even suggest that    but one day will come and one day we'll know where we could be       but somewhere i lost touch with you    you disappeared without a clue    and sometimes i think that we had so much    but everything breaks, everything, i touch