This is it

I can feel the end of the road
Silently sipping away every branch, every new kingdom
The lights in this city
The same lights in another city
The expert pounding of merciful cats
Lick the wounds, baby, lick the wounds
The prostration of dead bodies
They masturbated in a far place
See me, a train wreck, a blur
Writing carelessly
In the hopes that the new dawn will arrive in our lifetimes
Run, run, run
Run for the thrill of it
Because there's nothing else either
And no place to run to
Steamboats? Are you there?