Your combat boots just never had the soles to make it from here to the edge of the world. The mountains will melt, the oceans will boil, and with a deafening ring, the end of everything.
And your wool-lined parka just won't know what hit it, because this winter will be the coldest. It was never me, it was my god damn instincts that led me here, to the edge of the world.
I finally got that disposable developed and every picture came out blurry, except the one of you leaning on the goal post down the road, that one with your head thrown back laughing at the sky. And yes it made me ache, yes it made lonely, yes it made me wonder where you are. Wherever it is, I hope you're smiling.