The Words are a Blur

Too hot to think

The words are a blur

The lines on the highway

Race by

 

AC crapped out

Radio did too

I can't get my thoughts

To run straight

 

Nothing makes sense

The signs all point

In the wrong direction

I'm running out of gas

 

Aha! What's that ahead?

A light

A very bright light

I'm so confused

 

It's not getting closer

It's moving away

Just like the memory

Of snow-capped hills

 

The memory of cool

Of cold and of frost

The chill of the past

Becomes the future

 

We are close, my friends

Closer than you know

To a summer long gone

And winters frigid blast

 

Oh complain we will do

Of heat and of cold

And in our bitter rants

Our words are a blur