all things break - July On The Freeway

I turned around like you were sitting there beside me.
The cashier asked where I was headed,
I looked up at the highway signs.
I said,
"I'm just passing through," like I hadn't said it a thousand times.
The sun was falling into gold,
Painting all the places I was afraid to let go.
July on the freeway,
Your denim jacket on the passenger seat.
Every mile keeps moving forward,
But some things refuse to leave.
Windows down, California skies,