At 10:52 all is clear.
He understands voices that he hears.
He feels a loss that's deep and wide,
And a soul that he will keep inside.

At 10:52 he does not know
The pain that did arise and grow.
He hears a voice without a face,
A thought without a warm embrace.

At 10:52 he sits to write
About the thoughts that come at night.
He knows he'll never see that smile;
The smile that hid such deep denial.

At 10:52 he starts to cry.
He cannot stop, he knows not why.
When will this hole inside him leave?
And what is left for one who grieves?

back to the highway that never ends