Homesick and hotelrooms

Driving past sidewalks and streets and cold nights outside with lots of lights.
Or the Sun shining through the windows on your face reading a story about how it used to be watching raindrops roll down through your bright smile looking outside and you can't wait to rush out the door.

I feel safe in hotelrooms or on the endless highway in the dark.
Or on a red/white airplane taking me where I don't need excuses to say that I don't belong.

Clean floors that you could fall into and everything that you could ever wish for packed neatly on shelves.
Or those days you just couldn't sit still in many rows and all the people that you know.
And they're singing songs about a miracle and a tiny baby that saved the world and somehow the only thing that I can think about is how I'm ever going to make it to the end of my life.