Idaho

In the back of a car on a road in the dark In the stillicide, silently falling snow I've packed everything that I own in a bag And I'm driving, I'm driving to Idaho A poem for leaving, a reason to go So I'm driving, I'm driving to Idaho 'Cause I can't be anyone but me, anyone but me And I can't keep dreaming that I'm free, dreaming that I'm free I don't want to fall asleep and watch my life from fifty feet My hands are on the wheel so I'm driving to Idaho 'Cause I hear it's mighty pretty... And oh, I've been dumb, I've been perfectly beautiful Lain on my back buying lovers with stealth But I'm sick of you all, and I'm sick of opinions And I'm sick of this war I wage on myself and I don't know why I'm so gripped to go there A universe riddle that only I know? Mr Robert, he says, 'It's all in the head!' Tell me, Phaedrus, what's good, is it Idaho? 'Cause I can't be anyone but me, anyone but me And I can't keep dreaming that I'm free, dreaming that I'm free I don't want to fall asleep and watch my life from fifty feet My hands are on the wheel so I'm driving to Idaho 'Cause I hear it's mighty pretty 'Cause I hear it's mighty pretty 'Cause I can't be anyone but me, anyone but me And I can't keep dreaming that I'm free, dreaming that I'm free I don't want to fall asleep and watch my life from fifty feet My hands are on the wheel so I'm driving to Idaho I don't want to fall asleep and watch my life from fifty feet My hands are on the wheel so I'm driving to Idaho 'Cause I hear it's mighty pretty In Idaho