Riding up and down the hills of my neighborhood
Never thought of life as good
The holes in my gloves let in the cold air
The bitter wind blowing through my hair
I pedal and pedal, never getting anywhere.
The arctic atmosphere cuts like kinves through my skin
releasing the feelings kept hidden within
How can I love that liar?
My heart is full of fire,
But the air is rushing from my tire.
I ignore it,
Simply floor it.
But I feel the flat-ness
as the hills increase in steep-ness
and I realize I'm hopeless.
I can feel my muscles growing stronger
but I don't think I can do this any longer
because the hills are gaining more height
I can't see an end in sight,
but what goes up must come down, right?
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