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?