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God I miss the open road
Tie a charcoal ribbon 'round the world
And I’m wheeling off some soon forgotten line
That I’ll be sticking in some stupid highway song
Park the car around the back
And we’ll start a fire but we don’t have to talk
About what it’s like when we get back
Cards are neatly in the stack
Random on the table by the stove
Can we get warm before we
Take the boat out on the lake
Watch the lights on the shore
Lose their grip and spill themselves across the water
Talk about what it’s like when we get back
We don’t talk about what it’s like when we get back
Mosquito signal in my ears
I listen to the sound of it until it disappears
I see you in your autumn years
The sound becomes the stories you tell
Can we hear just one before we