Runaway

I’m a runaway
I’m a kite strung out to its last two feet
I’m a fever, before the drugs set in, before relief begins
I’m a cliché
I’ve been beat like a horse but the race has just begun

I’m a loner
It can feel like a crowd when there’s no one else around
But if the mood is right I’ll be downtown tonight
I’m a roamer
To the beat of a drum I chase the setting sun

I’m a writer
I’m a lover
I procrastinate like no other
These hats I wear could fill a motel room
And no matter what I do
This never makes sense to you, it’s true
I’ll never make sense to you