The last drive, in the cold and snow.
To a place that was happy long ago.
The night dark and the snow falling.
The stars clear, winking in a bitter sky.
A demon does not always have a name.
A demon can burrow into your broken heart.
Drive you away, drive into the night for escape.
To someplace that has magic to heal you.
Heater on blast, smothering and choking.
Lisa Gerrard singing like a lost, melancholy angel.
The snow coming at the windshield, glistening in headlights,
like you were in hyperdrive, going into deep space.
One last stop for smokes, Marlboro Lights in the box.
The young man at the counter flirts with you.
You give him a smile, look him in the eye.
One last stop, and then never seen again.
The last drive, one a cold and bitter night.
Running from a demon only you knew.
Running all the way out of the world, out of hope.
The last drive, and I’d follow you there, to find you again.