The Running

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John T. Wurzer

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Where has it gone
Where did we go
Was it a song
That moved too slow
The voices fade
The highway breaths
There are no fascinating leaves
When winter comes
They've hit the ground
The river flows
We come unwound
And no one knows
Or makes a sound
About the running

The running kept me going when there was little else to do
The sunny side of darkness overshadowed and untrue
The wheels of revelation passed me by while I passed out
But the running kept me going and I ran away in doubt

Where has it gone
Where did we go
Was it a song
That moved too slow
The voices fade
The highway breaths
There are no fascinating leaves
When winter comes
They've hit the ground
The river flows
We come unwound
And no one knows
Or makes a sound
About the running

Take another trip into a world that makes no sense
A land of bullshit nightmares and unhappy accidents
Although we're at a party where everyone is free
I'm not allowed to speak to you when you're standing next to me

Where has it gone
Where did we go
Was it a song
That moved too slow
The voices fade
The highway breaths
There are no fascinating leaves
When winter comes
They've hit the ground
The river flows
We come unwound
And no one knows
Or makes a sound
About the running

A thousand stolen verses wrote the novel, bound the book
A hundred long lost passages that don't know where to look
Three million stars above you lost in galaxies untamed
While you and I are stranded here with feelings still unnamed

Where has it gone
Where did we go
Was it a song
That moved too slow
The voices fade
The highway breaths
There are no fascinating leaves
When winter comes
They've hit the ground
The river flows
We come unwound
And no one knows
Or makes a sound
About the running

The voices of the ailing ghosts still haunt me late at night
The poisoned sleazy barroom folks are fading from my sight
While the part of me that once was overflowing with desire
Can't find an ember burning where there used to be a fire

Where has it gone
Where did we go
Was it a song
That moved too slow
The voices fade
The highway breaths
There are no fascinating leaves
When winter comes
They've hit the ground
The river flows
We come unwound
And no one knows
Or makes a sound
About the running

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