I left the porch light burning on the quiet side of dawn,

walking barefoot through the echo of a song.

The highway whispered, “Further,” every yellow line a scar,

and I carried all the reasons in a rusted coffee jar.

River caught my reflection, tore it loose beneath the bridge—

now I’m only direction, now I’m only what I give.

Every mile is a match struck, every goodbye turns to flame;

I don’t know the name of the place, but I’m going just the same.

晨霧吻過舊街燈，我揣著未寫完的昨夜

把嘆息折成紙船，放進(jìn)東流的水

讓失敗的指紋，在掌心長出新的山脈

當(dāng)?shù)谝话嗟罔F呼嘯，像替我按下了重啟鍵

我戴上耳機(jī)，心跳是未命名的節(jié)拍

此刻空白，正是世界給我的回信

把昨天的名字撕下，貼一顆更亮的星

I’m starting over，風(fēng)替我翻頁

腳印雖歪斜，卻指向太陽的方向

讓每一次跌倒，都開出野花的聲響

Sketch Plane, ink the sky in cobalt flame,

I draw my name across a cloud that never learned to rain.

Propeller heart keeps stuttering your syllables in blue,

Every line I pull becomes a runway back to you.

Fold the horizon like a letter I can’t send,

Rudder whispers “hold her,” but the paper never bends.

I’m tracing ghosted futures on a fuselage of night,

Sketch Plane, stay a little—let the dawn believe in flight.