Windshield

                                  
Brother don’t you cry alone

There’s plenty people feeling down

Brother don’t you sing that sad sad song

Cause you don’t have me to bring you out



Mother don’t you weep for me

I’ve made my stamp in this old town

Mother I wish that you could see the world I see

Where it’s never crowded with my crowd



Chorus:

Singing, high on the world

Breathing songs that make the simple people spin

Sitting high beside my only girl

She smiles and makes my dreams a closer friend



Breakneck speeds of roads and bars

And empty glasses sing the songs

Windshield reveals where we’ve been and where we are

But just not quite where we belong



My heart is always pointed South

Where she leaves the porch light on

She sighs goodbyes from her downturned mouth

And whispers, “Baby, Hurry Home”