Lyrics:

I remember the dry grass of Nebraska, grey to distant blue
I stopped on hills like slumping shoulders, car cooling, I took off my shoes
I drove out west with my sister, she talks more than I do
When she fell silent still I'd miss her, the sound of the wind coming through

I remember the smoky cups of coffee at the continental divide, mesas strange and red and snowy
I felt like I'd arrived
I walked on the streets of California in the wail of car alarms
Men would shout out to me passing; a stranger with crossed arms

I remember the subtlety of canyons black by the roadside
A cut in the rocks as I was passing, just a glimpse as you go by
If there's something you always are losing, you may not recognize
If there's something you always are choosing, something disguised

Lately I find myself lonely, I wouldn't have called it that before
I always took it as a comfort, what all the distance was for
If you can't leave clean as a statement, so true that you almost wince
If you can't leave, you get yourself taken, like a personal eclipse