Dust on the Dashboard

{slow rhythmic acoustic guitar build-up}

The gravel pops like gunfire underneath these aging tires

I’m packing up the wreckage of my own built-in 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.

{rhythm section enters} 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.

(yeah, 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.

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.

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, electric and gold

And I’ve got a story left to write,

one that’s never been told.

{swelling transition} {soaring pedal steel solo with wide ambient highway

reverb} {drums steady on the quarter

notes} 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… (getting somewhere)

I’m finally getting somewhere.

It’s just me,

these white lines, and the dust on the dashboard.

{acoustic guitar lingers} {wind sound fades in} {car tire hum over asphalt

fades to silence}