Axon Terminal

[Verse 1]
(Spoken)
The Little Tree air freshener still smells like Black Ice.
Your prescription bottles rattle in the cup holder, a nervous tic.
This is the part of the drive I already miss.
The 4:05 light over Gig Harbor hits the Sound, makes it look like mercury.

[Pre-Chorus]
(Spoken word, building in intensity and pace)
And I'm memorizing the way your hand rests on the dash,
trying to burn the muscle memory of this into my own cells,
before the signal stops reaching the limb...

[Chorus]
(Sung, explosive, full band)
Oh, can we just drive this mile one more time?
Pretend the tollbooth is the start of the line?
Your sympathetic nervous system next to mine.

[Verse 2]
(Spoken)
"Don't take the bridge," Dad always said, "it gets slick in the rain."
But you loved the part where you feel the whole world sway.
Now you don't look out the window. Your eyes are fixed on the stain
from a spilled can of Rainier on the passenger-side floor mat.

[Pre-Chorus]
(Spoken word, building in intensity and pace)
And I'm cataloging the frequency of your breath,
a metronome ticking down to a different kind of quiet...
Learning the atlas of blue veins across your wrist,
a map to a country I'm not allowed to visit...

[Chorus]
(Sung, explosive, full band)
Oh, can we just drive this mile one more time?
Pretend the tollbooth is the start of the line?
Your sympathetic nervous system next to mine.

[Bridge]
(Whispered, intimate, over a lone synth arpeggio)
I know the temporal lobe is a library on fire.
And I'm the one holding the goddamn gasoline.

[Outro]
(Sung, fading out)
Next to mine...
One more time...