On my twenties


I used to rub the warm dash and tell of the sweet spot

Every good car has

She likes it there no not there


Just get me a little further lovely little engines

If I play you the right songs

Scanning the radios on any state highway

While the wheels push through the ice 

How about a raspy voice to gain traction on those mountain roads

yes that’s it Lucero is working 

You weren’t ready for a ballad were you tough boy?

How many mountain tops have my headlights seen

How many passes have they driven over

enveloped inside the dark

of those west Americana nights

Gas stations cups of coffee

tired eyes seeing pink rabbits jump across the yellow and white lines 

Chewing cashews chewing tobacco chewing my hair if it’ll work

Just a few more miles please silent beggings

Those sweet old cars would always get me there 

Halfway somewhere

All the way home


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