fuck yeah i am still holding on 
making mountains out of molehills 
trading moments in for memories 
these days still mean everything to me 
days that could’ve so easily been ignored by you 
so many hours through scorching desert 
man, how can i say this without sounding like some cheesy 
Mötley Crüe song? 
so much of what we do driven by thoughts of you 
some names we’ll never know 
your smiling, imperfect faces helping us along
"are we almost there?" 
for thirty minutes while the whole world exists only 
in your eyes and war cries 
so much of our lives driven by thoughts of you 
and you and you there way in the back 
could it really be? 
still cannot believe that it’s true...
part of your day spent thinking of us 
waiting (just like i used to) for us to show up, 
plug in, and share with you our hearts
and that twenty-hour drive turns into nothing at all 
and for that we must 
thank you