Quarter Mile At A Time

[Verse 1]
Blacktop Sunday
smell of rubber and rain
Granddad’s land on the line
and the bank knows my name
Funny cars screaming
like ghosts in a cage
I’m taped to this missile
pointed straight at my grave
[Chorus]
Burning fuel
a quarter mile at a time
If I don’t win this run
they take that fence line
Barn turns to dust
in the rearview of my mind
Burning fuel
a quarter mile at a time
[Verse 2]
Sticker on the windshield
says “pay by June”
Foreclosure letter
folded up in my boot
Farmhouse lights flicker
like they’re sayin’ goodbye
Fields blur together
in the corner of my eye
[Chorus]
Burning fuel
a quarter mile at a time
If I don’t win this run
they take that fence line
Barn turns to dust
in the rearview of my mind
Burning fuel
a quarter mile at a time
[Bridge]
Funny cars fly by
like the devil’s on rails (hey!)
Crowd roars louder
than the auctioneer’s gavel wail
Green light flickers
this is do or die
Either I cross first
or the farm goes bye-bye
[Chorus]
Burning fuel
a quarter mile at a time
If I don’t win this run
they take that fence line
Cornrows and cattle
fade out in my mind
Burning fuel
a quarter mile at a time

country, Dark country with gravelly male vocals, swampy Telecaster twang, thudding kick and floor toms like a heartbeat, baritone guitar doubling the riff. Verses stay low and tense with sparse slide licks; chorus hits harder with stacked gang vocals and a stomping backbeat. Subtle organ pad in the background, ending on a long bent note and drum choke.