April 7 - Old Trucks & Broken Hearts

Driving down this highway
away from where I used to be
all that's in front of me are
miles and miles of I don't know
I think I'd call you if I could
but all I have are quarters and
they don't make pay phones
anymore

I'll keep driving til I see neon
so I can hook my heels on a rail  
and tell that bartender to keep
'em coming those 100 proof shots
of tell me why am I sitting here
staring down the barrel
of what used to be

When did it become so normal for
birds not to sing that it was a surprise
that redbird's song high up in
the sycamore tree as you told me
your heart had crossed the sea

Lying here on the hood of this
old truck stars fill the sky and
it's all bigger than my heart can hold
my brain caught in a riptide 
that's pulling me out to sea 
no lifejacket no boat no paddle
just me and the sharks of misery

There's some you never recover from
and from this one I'd sooner die
then to say it was all for nothing
as daylight cracks my eyes and skull
shaking off the whisky night before
with the sun at my back 
there's miles yet to go 
driving away from the we
looking for the just me...