Owen James - Wind In my face

Desert breathing slow.
Two-lane cut through nowhere, nothing but miles to go.
Helmet hanging off the handle.
Let the wind hit skin.
Hot air rush like a clean brake,
Blowing through what's been.
No one chasing.
No one to please.
Just throttle and a little peace.
Wind in my face, I finally feel it.
All that weight, I don't carry it.
Let it go, mile by mile.