Untitled

“Cross-Eyed Headlights”

Verse 1

I bought this old truck from a fella named Ray,

Should’ve known better when he said, “Runs okay.”

The paint’s all faded and the tires ain’t new,

But the worst part, buddy, is what these headlights do.

One points at heaven like it’s prayin’ all night,

The other stares at gravel just beyond my sight.

When the sun goes down and the back roads wind,

I’m drivin’ on faith more than these lights of mine.

Chorus

These cross-eyed headlights ain’t worth a darn,

One’s searchin’ for angels, one’s plowin’ the farm.

Can’t see a deer, can’t see a sign,

Just white-knuckle ridin’ and driftin’ blind.

Smells like old leather baked in the heat,

Mixed with taco wrappers under the seat.

Roll down the windows, but it still hangs around,

That’s the perfume of this truck beatin’ down the town.

Verse 2

My buddies all laugh when I pull into the bar,

They can hear me rattlin’ before they see my car.

They say, “That old thing belongs in a junkyard pile,”

I say, “Maybe so, but she’s carried me a thousand miles.”

Bridge

She’s ugly and stubborn, she’s loud and she’s slow,

But she’s been beside me everywhere I go.

And if she finally quits on some midnight ride,

I’ll probably just sit there and laugh and cry.

Final Chorus

These cross-eyed headlights ain’t worth a darn,

One’s searchin’ for angels, one’s plowin’ the farm.

And if I make it home before daylight shines,

I’ll thank the good Lord—not these lights of mine.