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Do you still want me? Do you still hold me in your mind? Do you still need the ties that bind? Do you still wish for my hands around you? Do you think of them at night? Do you think of me holding you tight? Do you still think of times we had? Do you still think about when we were glad? I know you've moved on. I have too. I've moved on as much as the sun does. I move on every day. I move with the wind. I move in my own way. I'm a wanderer. A lone highway rambler. I'm a country lane and I never end. I'm always out with friends. I'm tired and weary, and my eyes are red and bleary. I'm alone against the wind. The wind has always been my only friend. I'm in teeth, I'm in Oslo, I'm in Osco. I'm in the farmer's store. I put out my hand for more. I put in for this terrible war. The ocean wears away at me. It takes a grain or two of sand each day to rub on my surfaces and turn the polished metal to a dull and rusty gray. I'm in deep dear. I'm in the sky and in the clouds. I'm out among the towns. I'm from the church I'm from the parish. I hope that you never perish. I'm tired and I am weary. My eyes are red and bleary. I'm the ghost out in the corn. I'm the side with an ever present thorn. I'm in the creek I'm in the crick. I'm the one who wouldn't stick. I won't stay around here, I'd rather run out in the woods with all the deer. Hit me with your car I didn't mean it. I'm just a ghost can you see it? the horizon bends around the cracks. I bet you're the type that hits back.