why don't we do it in the road?

i believe i'm happy, always was, perpetual smile twisting round corners to play a joke, or rolling up to hide an inner smirk ~ i find that i was happy before you came, and maybe that is why i survive now. driving recklessly like i love to do, windows down, crazy making music loud, it rises over me like a snuggling sun, bright and blinding: the realization that i am happy and almost always was. it's a habit i got into, one of the only good ones i have maybe, this happiness...and at the same time, in a corner of my heart reserved for you, i find that sadness lurks too. but not for me, for you, because you must have always been sad. so much strength i saw in you, but why never the strength to just let slide, to just be happy, to just do it in the road? and now my stomache pulls me to the ground, telling me that things are wrong with you, that maybe you don't know it still, but my intestines feel it the way they always felt you, and they wrap themselves tight in recognition of your pain. still, i drive on the side of the line where the ball didn't fall, and when i stop the car i stop it happy, i dance, i laugh and i sing, but most of all i do it in the road.