Dust on the Dashboard

The gravel pops like gunfire underneath these aging tires

I’m packing up the wreckage of my own

desires

The title’s in the console,

the keys are cold as lead

Looking at a town that’s just a ghost story I once read

The porch light’s burning hollow in the middle of the day

I’m shifting into drive,

and I’m finally drifting away There’s a film of dust on the

dashboard, long shadows on the seat

Every mile is a promise

that I’m trying hard to keep

The radio is cutting out,

playing that static-filled tune

About a girl and a summer

that burned out way too soon

Yeah, the life I’m leaving is just smoke in the thinning air

But I’ve got enough road left to know I’m getting somewhere I

found a Polaroid wedged in the visor,

curled up at the ends

We were young and we were reckless,

convinced we were something more than friends Sitting on the tailgate,

watching the August sun drown in the pines

You were laughing at the silence,

tracing those old map lines

But the clock didn't break—no,

it just kept on grinding away

You chose the safety of the hollow,

and I chose not to stay

It ain’t that I’m running

from a history that was unkind

I’m just chasing the version of me I accidentally left behind

The horizon is burning,

wide open, bright and gold And I’ve got a story left to

write, one that’s never been told

The state line sign is rushing by,

I’m finally picking up speed

Watching that town disappear like a bitter,

habit-forming weed

I’m wiping the glass,

watching the dust fly back into the breeze

The yellow lines are blurring,

and I’m finally finding some ease Yeah,

I’m getting somewhere

I’m finally getting somewhere It’s just me,

these white lines, and the dust

on the dashboard (somewhere)