The Street

The night falls again, crisis of all times

The road stretches out, waiting for the next adventure

Every turn holds a memory, every mile a story

We chase the echoes of laughter and the thrill of the ride

Late nights in darkness, atrophied dreams

Stories told across greasy tables

Riders coming, going, the world in motion

Every conversation, a new piece on the puzzle

Late nights at all, open fields and winding roads

The horizon endless, sunset, spring sky