Possession

Driving south on the 101

The dashboard clock reads 4:15

I remember the way you moved

In that room in San Francisco

1989 was our first line

A calendar marked in heavy ink

From the Atlantic to the coastal wind

You are the number I still track (I track the signal)

The engine plays a low baritone

Past the palms of Santa Barbara

You were the heat of an August night

A silhouette against the chrome

1989 was our first line

A calendar marked in heavy ink

From the Atlantic to the coastal wind

You are the number I still track (The signal fades)

No compass left to guide the way

Just the rhythm of the highway lines

1989 was our first line

A calendar marked in heavy ink

From the Atlantic to the coastal wind

You are the number I still track

(1989) Fading into the horizon