This Isn't Me

Quarter to six am
This seat is cold as hell
I can barely control my hands
I wish I had someone to tell
I wish she was here by my side
To glide on this pitch with me
I wish this was just a ride
So I buckle up my expired dreams
Turn on the lights on this dread
Put on D this heart of mine
And shout with the roar
Im not dead
Is this me?
A ghost at the steering wheel
Is this me?
When the first ray of sun
Comes to dry my cheeks
I feel fine
If the call of the Dark
Will knock on my heart
I'll say not this time
No I won't feel that evil again
I just want to go on fast as I can
And stop saying
This isn't me
Quarter to seven am
A soft morning drift from the hills
In front of me a wide open land
Please, Time, don't fade
Like this mist
Please, Time, don't drip
From her wrists