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Pillow Talk

de My Dad Is Dead

On a strange highway miles from home
There's cars in line following empty signs.
I see 2 men. Best of friends.
Now opposed, their hate exposed for all to see.

I see a house, that's old and worn.
Familiar yet, still forlorn.

I hear this sound, the beat of bombs.
Like beating hearts, that tear us apart.
I see a sky that's red with light,
A fire rains down on us
From shattered night.

I feel unsafe in this place.
I can't find my peace of mind.

Strangers crowd around my bed.
Their voices loud in my head.
I don't understand what it is they want.
It's something I have left undone.

And every night, these scenes unfold
My body cries for quiet rest.

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