They are the only one who can take me where I am going
I am the only one who will feel the pain of the tires rubbing against the road
Four rotating tires with brand new grip and green signed streets to explore
Four who do not know direction but are going some direction
Four honest mistakes installed by my father
From the half opened window I can hear the roar but Time just wishes and doesn’t move it hands
Their appearance is tough
They drive outstretched miles through the time zones
They rotate fast and they rotate slow and link the distance between their hungered destination and leave the past with a locked memory and never remember the key
They is how they continue
Let one blow its composure by accident, they’d all crumble like a building with no beams, each with their journey on hold
Go, go, go they say as I drive
When I am too tired and too hopeless to go going, when I am a desperate hope against all the elements, then it is l who looks to the tires.
When there is something missing to fills this life
Four who carried against the opinions
Four who cradled and do not stop to rest
Four who only wish is to be finished and succeed