White Lines

Concrete towers fading in the glass A heavy week is sinking in the past The amber lights are bleeding into grey I shift the gear and pull the hours away Just the hum of the engine wire Just the turning of the tire White lines pulling me into the clear Nothing but the radio and atmosphere Leave the noise and let the static die Underneath the open, waking sky Billboards standing hollow in the wind This is where the quiet finally begins A distant frequency is catching on We ride the rhythm till the night is gone White lines pulling me into the clear Nothing but the radio and atmosphere Leave the noise and let the static die Underneath the open, waking sky Fading out, fading in Where the edge of the world begins