Some people read the rear view mirror, some read the fuel gauge tick

Some look into the lights for fun and drag on the stretch, and some sentences never stick

Are you living in the wastes of a widowed place or in the city's strung out lights?

Are you there in the back looking at me tonight?

Between the word and the totally absurd is a radio dial of sin

And prayer is a piece of bread out on a hook, but your disease don't bite at those hymns

And the highway's bright when the speed's just right, and it's hitting like a million bucks tonight

I love the world, but I think it's too fucked up to drive

Somewhere out in the Gulf Coast night, a wind blew

And the dead dog you dreamed about smiled at you

And in the hieroglyphic gulch, you withdrew

And broke down in Texas near a one horse town

Where brass saddles buckle, and the guitars, guitars, guitars weep

But some people can never be found