Like a swarm of flies colliding with a moving windshield 
So are our lives on this never-ending road 
I have left behind my mark only to be later washed away 
And was consumed with the allure despite the inevitable decay 

When did the road that I'm on [bad word] my only home? 
When did this [bad word] the one place I [bad word] know? 
(I [bad word] know) 

journey making us like weeds 
Where the wind steals our splendor 
But spreads it to the distant fields 
Despite our fragile imperfections 
Yet shaking walls and wearing wheels 
Can never capture my heart the way you do 

When did the road that I'm on [bad word] my only home? 
(my only home) 
When did this [bad word] the one place I [bad word] know? 

I am missing what makes me whole