Running Right

Cold is the wind  of my last words, 
Blown from the lips of a runaway
Trite is the weight of a farewell'
I've fallen through the looking glass again

I'm far from, I'm far from home 
Leaning on the gale of the storm 
I'm facing, I'm facing fire 
Fleeing from the pains of running right

Sad are the sorrows of the proud 
The words to their own ruin ringing out 
Rough is the road of my return 
Traveled at the length of some year's end