A deep sky spreads itself above him. Not a cloud, not a bird. He longs to look up, but his mind is filled with a determination he cannot let become distracted. He's made it out of there, escaped from that suffocating hell. They can stay there, with their little-town ways, the diner, the brawls, the Mid-West cliches. All he needs is the clothes on his back and his sweet, sweet guitar. He knows he will go far.