"Someone To Think About"

Headlight shakes in the dying afternoon. The sunset's roar almost drowns out the sound of my ride. Colored bands drifting slowly like sleeping whales in an empty purple sea. I saw somethin' about that on the Discovery channel, I think.

Spinning rubber and red tail lights around me want to send me home, but I'm not ready yet. I don't want to set my feet back down on the ground. I don't want to stop this feeling. I can see the gray blur beneath me, and I can see the last orange rays reaching out to me across the dark water. But I don't want to stop, not just yet.

I don't know where I'm going tonight. Just need to clear my head I guess. People in my face today, yapping away. So full of shit. Why can't they just say what they really think? Wasting my time with their brilliant thoughts on stuff that just ends up depressing me. Wasting their lives worrying about crap that doesn't really mean anything. I don't need much. I don't want much. But why is it always so much work to get so little? And why's it so hard to keep what I fight so hard to get?

Sylia says I have a passion. I dunno. I like to sing, I like the feeling, I like to get up on stage. I like to hit that note just right. I like to hear the music behind me. I like to hear them all scream. I like the sound of empty beer bottles pounding on tables. I like to walk away and do it all over again next weekend.

But I didn't say love.

I like simple things. Complicated stuff bores me. I don't have the time. I've got places to go and stuff to do. I don't have Call Waiting or Call Answer or Call It A Day or Call Whatever. I don't even like to pick up the vidphone... unless it's my agent. Nobody ever calls with anything interesting to say. Just want to talk about what happened to them today. Same shit that happened yesterday, but different. I wish I knew someone who...

I wonder where you are. We still haven't met yet. Maybe you don't exist? Maybe I want too much? Maybe I expect too much? Maybe... shit. Too many questions. Now I'm boring me.

But I could pass you by on the highway, and we would never know. Or would we? Should we? Through your tinted glass and my shaded visor, could we tell?

Could I pick you out in a smoky crowd between sets? Would you come to see me play?

What makes you so special? Think you can save me? Save me from what? I don't need saving. I don't need to be changed. I don't need to see the light. I don't need much.

But someone to think about once in a while would be nice. Someone who thinks about me.

Now I'm smiling. I used to smile alot. Okay, that's enough.

I place my hand against the tank. Top's getting cold. The sun is gone. Can't even see any clouds anymore. Time to head home I guess. The empty box under dirty street lamps that looks the same every night. Shit. I wish I could keep feeling this feeling all the time. Every minute. No one to tell me what to do, no one's ass to kiss. No one to try and change me.

Yeah, right.