I’m running after them
Chasing after them
Running on grace and fumes
And a miracle or two.
It’s ok that the breaks are shot
I’m not planning on stopping.
It’s ok the radiator’s dry
I’m counting on a miracle
Running on empty.
Flat tires?
What flat tires?
A bump in the road wakes me up
I had been dozing.

I look over at the driver who smiles at me
We’re chasing them down the road.
A check of the gauges confirms
We’re running on grace and fumes
And a miracle or two.

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