Perhaps The Final Melody

Every mile of this highway (Don't stop driving)
Every fading yellow line (Drag me away)
Wipes the tears that I stopped making
Kills the vision of my pale face
Wedged in stillness inside a wooden box
I will not comply
Every day seems hotter colder blacker brighter
Stairways tighter
Tired of wondering why there are holes in your reflection
Tired of wondering why
The arms which hold me
Taper off at the wrists
I won't lie: It's crossed my mind
In darkened rooms and on Sunday mornings
With sore throats and apparently nothing ahead
Damn my first steps for endearing me to this place
Damn my casket smile and their probable tears
Tears
Apathy diminshed becomes discontent
Sequelled by seclusion
Wasting my life as I'm cast into decades of silence
A bullet in the head would look great with that dress
And an exit wound about the size of a fist
I watch your dance as its cast into decades
Into decades
Watch your dance as its cast into decades
Cast into decades of silence
Don't stop driving today
I couldn't bear it
The same fucking grey sky
The same fucking streets
The same fucking day
After day