Highways is the lifeline of a junkie, the promise of salvation, every journey different but they all end up in the same place. In maryland I got on 495. Signs for baltimore appeared hovering over the freeway soon after that. Puttin my foot in another shoe I am going to cop. Im riding towards 0 and 00 caps, ridin towards the same life in a different pattern, wonderin if the tinted out car i see, nothing to me, strikes fear in their hearts. if the car stopped on the side is a speeder or a junkie about to be sick all night long. Trying to pick them out just like I do at home, where I know that anyone pulled over between 57 and 60 is goin down.
The city rises over the ramps as i come over the hill, does it fill them with a strange vibrating fearful anticipation? Im just a traveler it means nothing to me, but this is their Mecca and for a second I feel the excitement that I know they feel when they see that sign for the turn off where they descend into the city at, just like how no matter wat, the word Paterson looming over the exit lane like the announcement of the promised land still puts a quick flip in my stomach.
The words hold a secret that only we know, meaningless to everyone else but burns bright in our minds, its the sound of giving up, its the never ending taunt that says one more time. Its somethin that you cant avoid, clean for 6 months, a year, and every time you go down that highway, every time, you got to hold your hands down tight on the steering wheel, steel yourself, dont let your body go into autopilot and turn to the right, look straight ahead as u count down, knowing If i get over now I can still make the exit just hold on hold on, dont do it, and u got money and why not and its prolly safe, ahh fuck it, you whip around the u turn and ascend the ramp and youre right on Madison heading for 19th like you never left, feels better than cheating on your wife with the sexy girl you been dreaming of, more satisfying than the forbidden moment you kiss...
And the familiar surge of adrenaline rushes thru you, suddenly you alive again, shivering with pleasure at re living your memories, its so good you cant take it, the anticipation screaming thru your blood , Im going for it, Its so wrong its so right, the delicious thrill of letting yourself fall and not givin a fuck, I'M IN, ITS ON, HERE...WE..GO....
or instead you keep driving, teeth gritted, breathing shallow and the car is quiet windows up no radio, tryin to ground yourself, tell all the reasons it wont work and shouldnt happen and you know you aint doing nothing. You see the sign and move to the left, far from the off ramp. and nothing happens, everything goes back to normal. You resist and you refuse to admit to yourself just how bad you want to follow the trail you could drive in your sleep. Feeling old, lame, out the game, making excuses for yourself and why it aint a good idea and the small ember of knowing its all bullshit burns in your forehead and you hate playing this game telling yourself lies just to accomplish something you really dont even want to be doing anyways, but it just stuck somehow and now youre here and logic says it would be dumb to go back and you dont even know how you got here.
The minorr struggle every time you take this road is the last connection you have left with the life you used to lead, wondering if anybody noticed that you never around the store no more, if the guy that called you every day and hooked you up even remembers your name, phone numbers changed and everything you built up aint shit. You dont even know why you do it anymore, go by here, when theres 3 other ways, but you do it every time.
And as all this flickers thru your mind, you stay moving straight, pass your last chance for one for old times sake, and as that sign disappears you dont feel proud, you dont feel relief.
it feels like you got punched in the stomach. Your fantasy dies your chest sighs and disappointment fills your body .
The city rises over the ramps as i come over the hill, does it fill them with a strange vibrating fearful anticipation? Im just a traveler it means nothing to me, but this is their Mecca and for a second I feel the excitement that I know they feel when they see that sign for the turn off where they descend into the city at, just like how no matter wat, the word Paterson looming over the exit lane like the announcement of the promised land still puts a quick flip in my stomach.
The words hold a secret that only we know, meaningless to everyone else but burns bright in our minds, its the sound of giving up, its the never ending taunt that says one more time. Its somethin that you cant avoid, clean for 6 months, a year, and every time you go down that highway, every time, you got to hold your hands down tight on the steering wheel, steel yourself, dont let your body go into autopilot and turn to the right, look straight ahead as u count down, knowing If i get over now I can still make the exit just hold on hold on, dont do it, and u got money and why not and its prolly safe, ahh fuck it, you whip around the u turn and ascend the ramp and youre right on Madison heading for 19th like you never left, feels better than cheating on your wife with the sexy girl you been dreaming of, more satisfying than the forbidden moment you kiss...
And the familiar surge of adrenaline rushes thru you, suddenly you alive again, shivering with pleasure at re living your memories, its so good you cant take it, the anticipation screaming thru your blood , Im going for it, Its so wrong its so right, the delicious thrill of letting yourself fall and not givin a fuck, I'M IN, ITS ON, HERE...WE..GO....
or instead you keep driving, teeth gritted, breathing shallow and the car is quiet windows up no radio, tryin to ground yourself, tell all the reasons it wont work and shouldnt happen and you know you aint doing nothing. You see the sign and move to the left, far from the off ramp. and nothing happens, everything goes back to normal. You resist and you refuse to admit to yourself just how bad you want to follow the trail you could drive in your sleep. Feeling old, lame, out the game, making excuses for yourself and why it aint a good idea and the small ember of knowing its all bullshit burns in your forehead and you hate playing this game telling yourself lies just to accomplish something you really dont even want to be doing anyways, but it just stuck somehow and now youre here and logic says it would be dumb to go back and you dont even know how you got here.
The minorr struggle every time you take this road is the last connection you have left with the life you used to lead, wondering if anybody noticed that you never around the store no more, if the guy that called you every day and hooked you up even remembers your name, phone numbers changed and everything you built up aint shit. You dont even know why you do it anymore, go by here, when theres 3 other ways, but you do it every time.
And as all this flickers thru your mind, you stay moving straight, pass your last chance for one for old times sake, and as that sign disappears you dont feel proud, you dont feel relief.
it feels like you got punched in the stomach. Your fantasy dies your chest sighs and disappointment fills your body .
