Counting Breaths in Traffic (wersja 2)

Intro

Quarter tank left on the dash

Tail lights wash the cabin in an amber flash

One. Two. Three. Four.

Yeah

Verse

Brake pads whistling, six on the lower tier

Gauge needle floating between empty and nowhere near

Windshield smeared with the ghost of an autumn rain

Tunnel vision tunneling through six wide lanes

Been operating on an analog overdrive

Forgetting what it costs just to sit and be alive

AC rattling, spitting out a steady chill

Concrete quiet, but the inner gears grinding still

My knuckles pale where they lock to the vinyl grip

Tongue taste like bitter dark roast on the lip

Used to think the rush was the only way not to freeze

Running red meters just to outpace the memories

Now the radiator hums like an organ tone

Vibrating steady through the marrow of the collarbone

Shift into neutral, let the chassis drop its weight

Air hits the lungs, make the panic decelerate

Chorus

Red lights bleeding down the interstate line (state line)

Inhale four, let it settle in the spine (the spine)

Been surviving on the idle just to feel what's real

Cold palms flattening against the wheel (the wheel)

Red lights bleeding down the interstate line (state line)

Inhale four, let it settle in the spine (the spine)

Verse

Exhaust rising like steam off an open cut

Distance closing slowly while the heavy doors stay shut

Man in the sedan to the left got his forehead down

Sharing an ocean of inertia in a humming town

For three whole seasons I was hollowed out, coasting blind

Leaving half my presence in the gravel miles behind

Heart like an engine block cooled in a sudden frost

Calculating mileage by the pieces that I lost

Now the heat clicks on, warm copper through the grate

Feeling every contour of the minutes while I wait

Defrost wires melting out the foggy glass

Ribs pull wide, let the heavy static pass

It ain't a finish line, nobody gets a silver cup

Just a pulse in the throat when the rhythm starts back up

Five seconds holding at the ceiling of the chest

Exhale slow, give the engine room a rest

Chorus

Red lights bleeding down the interstate line (state line)

Inhale four, let it settle in the spine (the spine)

Been surviving on the idle just to feel what's real

Cold palms flattening against the wheel (the wheel)

Red lights bleeding down the interstate line (state line)

Inhale four, let it settle in the spine (the spine)

Bridge

Blinker ticking like a metronome against the dark

I don't need velocity to carry any spark

No momentum needed to confirm that I exist

Fingers uncurling from the center of the fist

The frost on the sternum starts to lose its hold

Sitting in the warmth of a city growing cold

Outro

One. Two.

Three. Four.

Lane opens up.

Breathe out. (breathe out)

Green light on the wet asphalt.

Rolling slow. (slow)