Five years long I've been running these open roads with 
no place to call home. Run away from everything you've 
ever known with no place to call home. I have no place to 
call my home. Gain a friend, then I lose a friend. It 
doesn't matter cause tomorrow it'll happen again. I'm 
losing touch with everyone at home. It's really hard when 
you're born to roam. Oh how I hate the line, "outta 
sight, outta mind." I'm on the search for the greenest 
grass that I will never find. I've run and run. I've 
drove and drove three hundred thousand miles of lonely 
roads to see the ones I love at home move on and on 
without me. I'm just a memory. Is this the life I chose? 
Have I chosen poorly or has it chosen me? Will it let me 
go now? With action comes reaction. We're all a slave to 
something. Dreams aren't meant to be lonely. Will you 
answer me? Is this heaven or hell? Is this "living the 
dream" or is it a living nightmare?