Honestly I don’t know where I’m going but I’ll miss you when I get there There may not be a highway that can bring you to me (buried alive by every road sign but I need something to call mine) I hear the places I haven’t been calling my name And now I dream of all the roads and maps and how I’m never coming back The days are cold I feel alone and everything gets old When nights don’t change I feel ashamed of how I got so old I hear the places I haven’t been calling my name And now I dream of all the roads and maps and how I’m never coming back I’ve seen this place in my dreams that everyone says I’ll never see If that's the case well then I’ll pray that I die in my sleep