They might not denote anyway

You can see it coming

The headlights fade

And what once was white

Now turns a red shade

I'm haunted in the night

The finger prints are on the window

I'm holding my breath until

I figure out what's right

From white to red to blue

I turn a pallor of tan

I'm writing messages in the fog

I'm burying my rocks in the sand

Though these messages might reach you

They might not denote anyway

Their intention is to beseech you

And ask that you let me go my way