In the back of a car
on a road in the dark
In the stillicide, silently falling snow
I have packed everything
that I own in a bag
And I'm driving,
I'm driving to Idaho.
A poem for leaving, a reason to go
So I'm driving, I'm driving to Idaho
Cause I can't be anyone but me, anyone but me.
And I can't keep dreaming that
I'm free, dreaming that I'm free
I don't want to fall asleep
and watch my life from fifty feet
My hands are on the wheel
so I'm driving to Idaho.
Cause I hear it's mighty pretty...
on a road in the dark
In the stillicide, silently falling snow
I have packed everything
that I own in a bag
And I'm driving,
I'm driving to Idaho.
A poem for leaving, a reason to go
So I'm driving, I'm driving to Idaho
Cause I can't be anyone but me, anyone but me.
And I can't keep dreaming that
I'm free, dreaming that I'm free
I don't want to fall asleep
and watch my life from fifty feet
My hands are on the wheel
so I'm driving to Idaho.
Cause I hear it's mighty pretty...
Idaho. Nerina Pallot.



