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