I used to rub the warm dash and tell of the sweet spot
Every good car has
She likes it there no not there
laughing
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
Jillian Prendergast. Writer. 