This song explores the philosophical concept that life's meaning is found not in destinations but in the journey itself, using the metaphor of a road trip to illustrate how movement, reflection, and the accumulation of small experiences create identity and purpose. The recurring question 'How do you measure a life?' suggests that traditional metrics of success are inadequate for capturing the true value of human experience, which is instead found in the ongoing process of becoming, the relationships formed along the way, and the acceptance of impermanence. The song implies that meaning is constructed through the act of living itself rather than through achieving specific goals or reaching predetermined destinations.
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Deep Dive
[Album] Exit 73 - Jackson Browne Inspired | 70s Road-Worn Soft RockAdded:
Sing me a parking lot la underneath a flickering [music] neon [singing] sky.
[music] Every engine humming low.
[singing] Goodbye.
[music] >> Every heart a runway, every road [singing] to life.
Sing me a parking lot [music] back.
Tell me rest ain't [music] just a rumor in the night. [singing] [music] Tell me rest ain't just a rumor in the night.
Headlights on [music] the curtain, slow as a sign.
Yeah.
[music] The ice [music] machine is humming like a quiet down the hall.
And the [music] laughter through the wallpaper sounds like someone I used to [music] call.
I [singing] was trying to write a love song on the back of a receipt.
But [music] every line keeps turning into exit signs and empty streets. Oh, every line leaving [music] every word of retreat and tenderness gets heavier the longer that you drive.
It's hard to hold a candle [music and singing] when you're trying to stay alive. Sing me a parking lot by underneath [music] a flickering neon sky.
Every engine humming low goodbye.
[music] Oh, every heart runway.
Every road [music] lie.
Sing me a parking lot. [music] Tell me rest [music] ain't just a rumor in the night.
>> [music] [music] >> There's a suitcase [music] by the doorway that I never fully unpack.
Like a [music] promise to myself, I'll be the kind of man who don't look back.
And the [music] AC keeps [singing] on breathing. Like a tight old friend of mine, keeping time with all [singing and music] the questions that I never had the time to find.
[music] Never had the time, never drew the line.
Is [music] rest a place you get to or a story that [singing and music] we tell?
Some bell we hear ringing from the bottom of a [singing and music] well.
I've been chasing my own tail lights down a highway in my chest. And the only thing that's [music] certain is I [singing] haven't found it yet. No, I haven't found it yet.
Sing me a parking lot.
[music and singing] underneath a flickering neon [singing] sky.
Heavy engine humming low. Goodbye.
Oh, [music] every heart runway. [singing] Every road [music] lie.
Sing me a parking lot. [music] Tell me rest ain't [music and singing] just a rumor in the night.
M Tell me [music] rest ain't just a rumor in the night.
Oh. [music] Oh.
[music] Oh. [singing] I'll be gone by morning.
Same as [music] all the rest.
Cars all aimed at somewhere.
Hearts [music] all packed and pressed.
M. Sing it soft, sing it [music] low.
Sing me something I can take with me [singing] when I go.
When I go [music] m [music] >> [music] [music] >> is the routine just a softer kind of cage.
Oh, [music] tell me now.
A familiar little doorway on a [music and singing] familiar little stage.
She pours [music] me one more cup and says the road brings us around.
[music] But around to what? And who's still [music] waiting when the wheel sets down.
[music] Booth by the window.
Neon huming low. [music] One more. Thank you, man.
Pen on a napkin. [music] Miles still to go.
She's got a [music] name tag and a tied little [singing] grin, a wedding band she spins around her finger like it's thinking. I told her how the [music and singing] crowd had been a thousand strong last night. And I woke up alone and couldn't quite remember [music and singing] why. Yeah, I know.
She nodded like she'd heard it all before. Said, "Honey, [music] every traveler comes walking through that door. And the math of it don't add applause and [music] empty rooms. The louder that they love you, the quieter the noon. Ooh, [singing and music] the quieter the noon is the routine. Just a softer kind [music] of cage. Tell me friend, a familiar little doorway [music] on a [singing] familiar little stage.
She pours [music] me one more cup and says the road brings us around. [music] But around to what? And [music] who's still waiting when the wheel sets down?
I asked her if she ever thought of leaving [music and singing] here.
She laughed and said she leaves a little every year. Inside [music] her head, she's been to places I've only sung. She [music] refills the cup and tells me, "Son, you're still young. Am I though?
There's a [music] jukebox in the corner playing something slow." And I'm starting to confess things that I [singing] didn't know I know.
What if [music] the wheel keeps turning cuz we're scared to step aside? What if [music] the comfort in returning is a quiet kind of lie? I [music] could pack the same suitcase till the buckles fall apart and call the highway home and call the [music] home [singing] a work of art.
Is [music] the routine just a softer kind [music] of cage? Look at me.
A [music] familiar little doorway on a familiar [music] little stage.
She pours me [music] one more cup and says the road brings us around.
But around [music] to what? And who's still waiting when the wheel sets down?
I left a tip beneath the saucer and a question [music] on the side.
>> Something I can't cash in, something I [music] can't decide.
>> She waved me through the doorway like she's done a [music] thousand times. And the bell above the door kept asking what [music] was mine.
What was mine?
Around [music and singing] and around and around we go.
Thank you, ma'am. [music] Drive safe now.
>> [music] [music] [music] >> I'm halfway to anywhere, baby. Halfway gone. Halfway gone. Halfway gone.
[music] Got a tank full of maybe and a head full of dawn.
But [music] I swear I'll get there soon as I know the name. [music] Soon as I know. But anywhere [singing] and nowhere.
They sound [music] about the same.
Yeah. One more cup, one more [singing] mile. [music] >> One more. One more.
Tell them I'm coming.
Tell them I'll [music] be a while.
[music] Caught my own face in a backstage [singing] mirror, a borrowed guitar and a stranger's [music] grin. Somebody asked me where I was headed. [music] I said the same thing I always been. Out [music] past the diner where the truckers gather. Coffee black and the jukebox [music] low. A waitress laughed when I tipped my hand. So she'd heard [music] that song a long [singing] time ago. And the rest stopped keeping [music] me honest cuz nobody asked you to stay. The best talks [music] I ever had with anyone happened on the way.
I'm halfway [music] to anywhere, baby. Halfway gone. Halfway gone. Halfway gone. [music] Got a tank full of maybe and a head full of dawn.
And I swear I'll get [music] there soon as I know the name. Soon as I know. But [music] anywhere, nowhere, they sound about the same.
There's a piano [music] somebody left in the lobby. Out of tune like the day I was born.
I played a song [music] for the nighter smoking and the morning crew that hadn't [music] shown.
A borrowed shirt and a borrowed reason.
A map by folded [music and singing] the wrong way twice.
Every exit looks like a season. Every season asks [music] the same price.
Maybe the road is a [music] long apology.
Maybe the wheel is a kind [singing] of prayer.
>> Kind [music] of pray.
>> Maybe the friends I keep meeting in motion are the ones I was [music] too still to bear. And I tell them I'm halfway. [music] Halfway.
>> Halfway there.
>> Halfway there.
>> But halfway from what I don't [music] ever quite say.
I'm halfway to anywhere, [music] baby.
Halfway gone. Halfway gone. [music] Halfway gone. Got a tank full of maybe and a head full of dawn.
[music] And I swear I'll get there soon as I know the name. [music] >> Soon as I know. But [singing] anywhere, nowhere, they sound about the same. [music] Sound about the same.
Oh. [music] >> [music] >> So I see you between the places where nobody learns your name.
>> Learns your [music] name.
>> And I wonder if anywhere is just another [music] word for the same.
>> Just another [music] word.
>> Halfway. Halfway, halfway, >> halfway [music] home, >> halfway.
>> Or is anywhere just [music] a softer way of saying I'm alone? [music] [music] Empty [music] [music] chair, empty [music] light. Playing for the rose that don't reply tonight. Sing it again.
Sing it again.
Till [music] the song forgets the page and starts to fly.
Empty chairs, empty [music] life. Tell me when the day was real. Tell me how to know. One more [music] time. One more [singing] time. If the best ones are the ones you can't redo.
[music] Rolling in before the doors, [music] cables coiled across the [singing] floor. A piano [music] woman like an engine in the cold.
Yeah.
[music] The road led us off at the side door this morning. Coffee going cold on the lip of the stage. The drum [music] counts of four and the room comes alive like a [singing] letter you keep meaning to send. I listen for the bar where the song [music] lets go of my hand [singing] where it walks on its own where it doesn't need a plan. There it is, there it goes. And [music] I'm following it home again.
Repeat it like a prayer [music] you almost mean. Repeat it till the words turn into something new. [music] Almost. Almost. And the meaning shows through.
[music] Empty chest, empty light. Playing for the rose that don't [music] reply. And I sing it again. Sing it again.
Till the song [music] forgets the page and starts to fly.
Empty [music] chair, empty life. Tell me when the day [music and singing] was real. Tell me how to know.
>> One more time. One more [music] time.
>> If the best ones are the ones you [music and singing] can't reduce.
I caught myself [music] wishing for a crowd just to prove that the afternoon [singing] happened that we moved [music] a witness for the take will never play the same somebody [music] to remember [singing] our name. The base walks under like a friend who knows the [music] way the slide answers [singing] something I was too tired to say.
[music] Yeah. in the chairs keep their applause for another day. Maybe [music] grace is a thing you rehearse.
Maybe the second verse is the first.
>> Sing [music] it through. Sing it through.
>> Maybe the take that you can't get back is the only one that's [singing] true.
The room keeps the secret. Like a [music] deep breath after a long drive, the song [singing] wakes [music] up and reminds us we're alive.
Empty chest, [music] empty life. Playing for the ros that don't [music] reply tonight. Sing it again. Sing it again.
Till the song [music and singing] forgets the page and starts to fly.
Empty [music] chair. Empty light. Tell me when the day was real. Tell me how to know.
>> One [music] more time. One more time.
>> If the best [music] ones are the ones you can't redo.
>> So play it for the folding chairs, for the dust [music] above [singing] the lamp. One more pass. One more pass. For the day will never [music] stand.
Empty lights, empty chairs. The best night [music] might be this one.
And we'll never know it was [music] till it's gone. Till it's gone. Till it's gone. Till it's gone.
>> [music] [music] [music] >> Cross keys on the dresser. They don't [singing] open anything I own.
No, they [music] don't.
No, they don't.
Just a room [music] with a number and a phone that never [music] rings home.
Curtains [music] never closing. Light keeps leaking through the scene.
And I'm [music] holding what they handed me.
like it [music] could lock a dream.
Woke [music] up sideways in a borrowed bed. Yeah. Yeah. [music] Trying to remember what [singing] the night had said.
[music] The carpet keeps the perfume of whoever slept here last. [music] A suitcase full of yesterday's [music] I haven't yet unpacked.
There's a Bible in the drawer and [music] a stain beside the lamp and a pen that doesn't [music] work from some forgotten riding camp. I tried to call the front desk just to hear [music] another voice.
She said checkouts at 11 like it wasn't [music] even a choice.
And the morning came crooked and I let it let it come. [music] Confusion's the one hest thing I [singing] get.
Cross [music] keys on the dresser. They don't open anything.
No, they don't.
No, they don't.
Just a room with a number and a phone that never rings home.
Curtains [music] never closing. Light keeps leaking through the scene.
And I'm [music] holding what they handed me like it could [music] lock a dream.
[music] Then I came [singing] at the door with a paper bag and a grin.
A friend [music] with bad coffee and a joke I had to let in. Come on in.
[music] He said the world's still turning even from a room like this and the loneliness [music] loosen like a fist becoming a wrist.
We laughed about the [music] wallpaper, the painting nailed too high and for half a cigarette I forgot [music] the reason why. Maybe comfort isn't permanent.
Maybe [singing] nothing is.
Maybe [music] it's a knock that lands the moment [singing] you forget. There's such a thing as this. Such a thing [music] as this. A welltimed interruption from [music] the egg you could name.
And the keys don't have to open anything [music] to mean the same. Hey, cross [music] keys on the dresser. They don't open anything I own. No, [music] no, they don't.
No, they don't.
Just a [music] room with a number and a phone that never rings [music] home.
Curtains never closing. Light [music] keeps leaking through the seam. Through the seam. And I'm holding what they handed me.
Like it could lock a dream.
Like it could lock a dream.
[music] He left the bag. He left the joke.
He left the door a jar. Left it open.
[music] And I sat there with the keys and the hum of a passing car.
Wondering [music] if comforts just somebody knocking on time.
Wondering [music] if anyone's still listening. Down the line.
>> Down the [music and singing] line.
>> Down the line.
fire.
[music] How does a song hold a line that [music] won't bend? Won't bend. Won't bend.
How does a verse carry [music] weight to the end when the trouble [music] out there doesn't fit [singing] in a rhyme?
Doesn't fit. Doesn't rhyme.
>> I'm more afraid of the [music] quiet than the cost of my time.
Clipboards [music] and cables, a list taped to a wall. One more night.
Somebody [music] whisper, "We got this, that's all."
[music] Backstage, the runners are taping the floor. [music] Watch your step. Every loose wire is a knock at the door. They [music] move like a prayer [singing] that nobody hears. Nobody hears. trying to [music] keep disaster a little further from here.
And I think of the towns where the marquee still [music] glows on >> and the speeches on screens that everyone knows [music] while the bill comes ding. Quiet room quieter room. And the people who pay it keep paying [music] in full. And I don't want to sound like I've got it figured out.
>> No, I don't. But I can't stand still when there's something [music] to shout.
How does a song hold a line that won't bend, won't bend, won't? [music] How does a verse carry weight to the end?
When [music] the troll out there doesn't fit in a rhyme, doesn't fit, [music] doesn't rhyme. I'm more afraid of the quiet than the cost.
My [music] the bass [music] play tunes while the monitor's [singing] home. One, two, one, two. The drummers already [music] counting the drum. And out past the lights, there's a country [music] I love. Country I love. Trying to remember [music] the shape of a night. They sell us the picture. They hand us the frame.
Hand us the frame. [music] And ask us to thank them for learning [singing] our names. But the [music] cables run under the boards where we stand. Under the boards. And someone [music] keeps taping them down with their hands.
What [music] does it mean to do the work that you do? What does it mean? Still hear your conscience walk in the [music] room. To play the right note to say the right thing.
>> Say [singing] the right thing.
>> Not let the silence finish your sentence [music] for you.
Oh, not let the silence finish what [music] you began.
How does a SONG HOLD A LINE that won't bend? Won't bend [music] won't.
How does a verse carry weight to the end?
Well, [music] the trouble out there doesn't fit in a rhyme.
>> Doesn't fit. Doesn't [music] rhyme.
>> I'm more afraid of the quiet than the cost of my time.
>> More afraid. [music] more afraid. I'm more afraid of the quiet than the cost of my time. [music] [music] Clipboards and cables, a list on the wall. One [music] more night.
Somebody's job is [music] to catch what would fall.
And maybe [music] the song is the rope in my hand. [singing] Rope in my hand.
[music] And maybe the question is all I command.
All [music and singing] I command. All I command.
[music] [music] >> [music] [music] >> Ex 73 I watched it go on go [music] the door I didn't open the headlights blow I could have stepped down I could have made [music] the All said I'm staying tonight. Said I'm done with it [music] all.
Done with it all.
>> Exit 73.
Exit 73.
The road [music] keeps the choice I never made for me.
The window's cold and the wheels [music] don't slow. There's a sign in the distance. I already know. I pass it [music] so many times in [singing] my head. I made up the kitchen. I've made up a bed. Made it up [music] again.
There's a phone on a wall in a house. I imagine the porch lights still [music] burning for somebody's plan. And I'm half in the seat and I'm half on the lawn. Half a man arriving, half a man gone in the van. [music] It's a cord like we're flying somewhere. Here it comes.
But the words in my mouth taste a lot like a prayer. Like [music] maybe like maybe like maybe I should have done what I did when I thought that I [music] could.
Ex 73. I watched it go. [music] Watched it go.
A door I didn't open in the [music] headlights glow.
I could have stepped down.
I could have made the call.
Said I'm staying the night. Said I'm done with it [music and singing] all.
Done with it all. Exit 73.
Exit [music] 73.
The road keeps the choice I never made for me.
>> [music] >> There's a version of me on the kitchen floor laughing at something I won't [singing] hear anymore. A coffee gone [music] cold and a window gone gray. And nobody asking me to drive away. Drive away.
>> But the diesel keeps singing the song that it sings. And the mile markers [music] count off the shape of my wings.
And the man in the glass looks a lot like [music] a ghost to the one who stayed home with the ones he loved most.
His regret just a way of being faithful to the night you couldn't quite let go.
>> Let it go. [music and singing] Let it go. Is the ache in the chest just the heart staying grateful for the lives you almost got to know.
And I carry [music] them all like a second address. Every exit of name, every name. Yes. I [music] never said out loud. Never said out loud. Never out loud.
Exit [music] 73.
I watched it rise. Here it comes again.
A whole other [screaming] life in another man's eyes.
I [music] could have stepped down.
I could have made the call.
Said [music] I'm staying forever. Said I'm g all.
G it all. Exit 73.
Exit 73.
The road keeps the choice I never made [singing] for me.
>> Never made. Never made.
Never made. [music] Never made. Never made.
[music] And the sun slides by.
And the night [music] slides on.
And I love it. I love it. The lives that are gone. The lives that [music] are gone. Exit 73.
Exit [music] 73.
The road keeps the choice.
The road [music] keeps the choice. For me.
>> For me.
For me.
For me, for me, [music] for me, [music] [music] can a song be a place to stand when the ground [music] keeps moving under your hand.
Oh, under your hand.
Can a me [music] hold the line when the wheels won't stop? And neither will time.
>> Neither [music] will time.
>> No, neither will time.
My [music] marker passing like a breath I forgot [singing] to take.
Yeah. [music] Everybody's sleeping but the song still awake.
[music] Leaning [singing] in the aisle to find the note we [music] share. Boys in the back row ghost in every chair. The engine hums low on somewhere around [music and singing] the deep. Low and slow, low and slow. We keep coming [singing] home to it [music] cuz it's the only key.
I watch [music] their faces dreaming lit by the dashboard blow.
Wondering [music] which parts of me only live when the wheels roll. [music] only when they roll.
And the wide lines pull me forward and [music] the rear view lets me go. Let it go. Let it go. And somewhere between the [music] verses, there's a man I used to know.
Can [music] a song be a place to stand when the ground keeps moving under your hand? Oh, [music] under [singing] your hand.
Can a mey hold [music] the line when the wheels won't stop? And neither will time. [music and singing] Neither will time. No, neither will time.
>> [music] >> Coffee gone cold [singing] in a paper cup. Driving nods [music] a slow nod says we ain't stopping up. Roll on.
Roll on.
>> There's [music] a cord I keep returning [singing] to that I cannot name. Like a face you almost recognize through [music] a window pane.
The life still [music] cries a question that the lyric won't ask.
And I hide behind [music] the harmony [singing] like it's some kind [music] of mask.
Some kind of [singing] mask. Yeah. If the road is [music] all the home I get, then the song is all the prayer I've kept. [music] All the prayer I've don't wake [singing] me when we hit the line.
Just keep the [music] wheels in the rhying time.
>> Keep it in time. Keep it in time. Can [music] a song be a place to stand when the ground keeps moving under your hand? [music] Under your hand can melody hold the line [music] when the wheels won't stop. And me the will [singing] time.
>> Need the will time. No need can [music] only be a place to stand when the ground keeps moving under your [music] hand.
Oh, [music] keep the bus rolling. Keep it rolling. Keep it rolling.
>> [music] >> Don't need an answer tonight. No, no answer tonight.
>> Just the hum and the headlights [music] and the blend in the eye.
>> In the eye. In the eye.
>> Keep the bus rolling.
Keep the bus rolling [music] on.
[music] How do you measure a [music and singing] life when the calendar's a tour?
[music] When the days are just the cities and the [music] nights are just the doors.
I [music] keep counting what I carry, but the carrying counts me too.
>> How do you [music] measure?
How do you know?
>> And the zipper [music] closes slow on what I thought I knew.
There's a photograph [music] folded where the corners come undone.
>> Yeah. [music] Yeah. And the guitar pick I've been saving [singing] since before the song [music] was sung.
A receipt [music] from a diner with a coffee tasted thin. A ticket stub. A borrowed shirt. [music] The trouble I [singing] was in. I lay them on the bed [music] spread and I read them like a hand, [singing] like a hand, like a map.
Every little nothing is a country I once ran. [music] And I've started leaving pieces of the heavy on the floor just to [music] feel a little lighter. Walking out the door.
>> Lighter. [music] Lighter. Now, how do you measure a life when the calendars [music] are to when the days are just the cities and the nights [music] are just the door?
I keep counting what I carry, but the carrying [music] counts me too.
>> How do you measure?
How do you know? And the zipper [music] closes slow on what I thought I knew.
A matchbook from a wedding where I didn't know the bride. A letter I half answered. [music] [singing] And a letter I just sang. The fiddles in the corner and the lap steals on the bed. M. Yeah.
And every song [music and singing] I've written is a thing I should have said.
[music] What gets saved is what survives [singing] the choosing.
What gets kept is what you couldn't bear to [music] lose.
And the road don't ask you what you came here proving.
>> Came here proving. [music] Came here through. It just opens up and lets you choose.
[music] How do you measure a life? When the calendars are tour, when the days [music and singing] are just the cities and the nights are just the door.
I [music] keep counting what I carry, but the caring counts [singing] me too.
How do you measure? [music] How do you know? And the zipper closes slow on what I thought I knew.
>> [music] >> I pulled the zipper closed and I [music] sat there on the bed.
Couldn't tell you what I saved and couldn't tell you what I left.
The case got a little lighter or the case [music] got a little wise.
Yeah. Yeah.
And [music] the morning's at the window with a tour bus idling.
Idling [music] slow.
Idling on.
[music] >> [music] [music] >> This little room key [music] goel in my hand.
>> One more night, one more name. [music] I never learned.
>> Proof I belong somewhere. Proof I can [music] stand.
I'm running out of reasons. [music] Running out of road. And I'm half afraid of every door that opens when I'm home.
[music] Home. Home. Wherever that word goes.
Dragged the [music] lobby piano down the hall on a rug.
>> Easy now. Easy now.
>> Set it by the bed where the [music] lamp still glow.
Played it quiet [singing] as a [music] thought I never told.
There's [music] a curtain holding back the parking lot and moon.
>> Blue light [music] bleeding through and a Bible in the drawer that [singing] nobody reads but I almost do.
I count the things I'm short on.
Patience [music] sleep a face that knows my own >> running.
>> And the dial tone hum of the heater [singing and music] sounds a little like a him.
So I [music] lay the brass key flat on the nightstand. What? Little cross, little [music] crown. Like it might mean something.
Like it might mean [music] good.
This little room key goel in [music] my hand. One more night, one more name I never learn. [music] >> Proof I belong somewhere. Proof I can stand. 4 a.m. the ice machine [music] turning.
>> I'm running out of reasons, running out of road. And I'm half [music] afraid of every door that opens when [singing] I'm home. [music] Home. Home. Wherever that word goes.
>> [music] >> There's a [music] song I keep beginning that the morning [singing] won't let me in. It never lets [music] me in.
About the boy I used to be and the man [music] he tried to send.
I write a verse on a napkin. Fold it twice into my coat. Fold it soft, fold [music] it slow. Like a letter [singing] to the stranger I'll be by the time I go.
Maybe a rabbit is the [music] part I never learn. Never [singing] learn.
Never [music] learn.
Maybe leaving was the only prayer I burned. [music] Maybe home is just the place you keep behind your [music and singing] face.
This little [music] room key goel in my hand. One more night, one more name. I [music] never learned.
>> Proof I belong [singing] somewhere.
Proof I can stand. 4 a.m. The ice machine turning. [music] >> I'm running out of meaning. Running out a road. And I'm half afraid [music] of every door that opens when I'm home.
Home. Home. [music] Wherever that work goes.
>> [music] >> Leave [music] the key on the dress.
Leave the lamp burning low. Leave [music] it. Leave it. Some rooms remember you. A little after you go.
[music] A little after you go.
And maybe home [singing] is only [music] the place you leave behind.
Only the place, only the place. Only the place [singing and music] you leave behind.
[music] >> [music] [music] >> The map won't keep the shape I [singing] gave it. Every crease of road I [music] tried to save it on.
Still [music] rolling.
Still [singing] rolling.
The paper [music] tears. The wheel keeps turning. [singing] Some old version of me is still learning how to [music] be gone. Oh, how to be gone.
[music] unfolded it slow on the dashboard [music] light.
One more time.
Crease is [music] pegging where it breaks tonight.
There's a [music] town up here I swore I'd never leave.
and a name down there I wore right on my sleeve.
Each little [music] dot of man I used to be. None of them the [singing] whole truth. None of them fully me. [music] >> No, not fully me. I've been measuring the hours by the [music] sound check.
[singing] H by the sunrise coffee gone lukewarm and numb. And the engine [music] keeps a promise [singing] that my own mouth never could.
Oh, [music] never could.
Sing. Go on, go on, [singing] go on.
Like a good man [music] should.
The [music] map won't keep the shape. I gave it. Every crease of road [music] I [singing] tried to save it on. Still still rolling. Still rolling.
The paper [music] tears. The wheel keeps turning. [singing] Some old version of me is still learning how to be [singing] gone.
How to [music] be gone.
>> [music] >> I keep a thermos full of yesterday's regret and a tape deck playing songs [singing] I can't [music] forget.
>> Forget >> every exit signs a letter I won't send.
[music] Every mile of sentence I'll begin again.
The [music] dashboard glow is all the company I need. The white line writes the chapter. [music] While I read, while I read.
Am I [music] choosing these roads or just running the ones I know? The ones I know.
Is the [music] wheel in my hands or am I just alone for the show?
[music] The headlights bend around a turn. I've taken [music] a thousand times before and [music] I still don't know.
What I'm leaving or what I'm driving toward.
[music and singing] Driving hard. The map won't keep the shape [music] I gave it. Every crease of road I tried to save it [music and singing] on. Still still rolling.
>> Still rolling.
The paper [music] tears, the wheel keeps turning. Some old version of me is still learning how to [music] be gone. Oh, how to be gone. [music] It came [music] apart right there along the fold.
>> Let it go. [music] Let it go.
I held the pieces, watched [music] them catch the cold.
The wind [music] took care. The other half I kept driving [music] on through everywhere I [singing] haven't slept.
Still [music] rolling.
Still rolling on.
[music] [music] I've gotten [music] good at goodbye. Too good, too good.
>> I can play it in any key, any night, [music] any sky.
Every face a different door.
>> Same heart, [singing] >> same floor. And I [music] smile while I'm already missing more.
>> Already gone.
already [music] gone.
>> There's a suitcase by the window and a coffee [music] going cold.
Here we [music] go again.
There's a song I keep rehearsing every time [music] I hit the road.
[music] Verse is just the piano and the way my hands remember and the bass [music] walks in like an old friend in December.
[music] Brushes on the snare like footsteps in the hall.
>> Easy now easy.
>> I know the lines before the curtain [music and singing] even falls.
I practiced every part until the pardon [singing] feels like home. [music] And leaving doesn't leave [singing] a mark at all.
And the strange [music] thing is I mean it every time I say it new. I swear I do.
[music] But the words come out the same [singing] no matter who I'm talking to.
[music] I've gotten good at goodbye to.
I can play it in [singing] any key any night.
>> [music] >> In the sky, every face a different door. Same hallway, [music] same floor. I smile while I'm already missing more. Already gone.
[music] [music] There's a glow off the dashboard [music] and a town I can't recall. Was it Tuesday? Was it you?
>> I've been writing the same [music] letter and mailing it to all. The names blur in the [music] chorus, but the melody stays true. And I wonder if the ache is mine or just the room [music] without you.
Is this love I'm carrying or just the [music] shape of what's not here?
>> Tell me. Tell me. Is the hard kind of muscle [music] that remembers what we wear?
Out on every [singing] empty highway and every borrowed bed. Oh, the things we never said. [music] >> Would it hurt less if I stayed?
Or would I miss the road instead?
[music] I've gotten good at goodbye to good.
I can play it [music] in any key, any night, any sky.
Every face [music] a different door.
Same hallway, same floor. And I smile while [singing] I'm already missing more. [music] Missing more. Missing more.
I've gotten good at Goodbye.
[music] So I'll [music] fold the same farewell and I'll tuck it in my [music] coat. One for the road, one for the road. And I'll sing it like I [music] wrote it. Even though I always wrote it. Even though I always knew. [music] M Even though [music] I've gotten good.
I've gotten good at [music] >> [music] [music] [music] >> Is it faith [music] or is it [singing] just the running?
>> Is it faith? [music] Is it flight? Is it grace or just the wheels still humming?
>> Keep it low, keep it right. [music] >> Tell me, brother, when [singing] the night goes on forever is the moving. How we hold ourselves [music] together.
>> Hold on.
Well, [music] the only way we know [singing] to say goodbye.
4:00 a.m. in the windows [music] hum a low [singing] blue tone.
[music] Half a dream and a half a name [singing] I used to own.
[music] There's a [music] hymn in the diesel underneath the floor. The [singing] longheld note I've been listening [music] for. I don't know the words, but I know the need for something [music] steady I can lean against and read. I think of Danny with his hands on fire of Rosemary [singing] [music] who walked into the wire. Oh, the ones we lost. And the part of me that wants to take that ride. [music] And the road keeps offering its [singing] arms. Take it, take it slow like a promise that can [music] do no harm.
>> But you never know. [music] Is it faith or is it just the running?
>> Is it faith? Is it life?
>> Is [music] it grace or just the wheels still humming?
>> Keep it low. Keep it right. Tell me brother, when the night goes on forever, [music] is the moving how we hold ourselves together. Oh, [music] hold on.
For the only way we know to say goodbye.
[music] [music] I write their names on the back of a receipt. Friends will burn the candle from the [music] middle to the street.
Gone [singing] too soon.
And I wonder if the fire that [music] I carry in my chest is a lantern or the same old test.
The bus leans [music] into a curve I cannot see. And the lap still cries like it's praying over me. Sing it low for the ones who [music] couldn't sleep and wouldn't stay. Maybe prayer is just a sound [singing] you make when the words have all been spent. [music] >> When the words run dry. Maybe motion is the only [singing] song [music] a tired man can invent.
[music and singing] >> And the engine underneath us is the closest [music] thing to a man that I found [music] again.
Is it faith [music] or is it just [singing] the running?
>> Is it faith? Is it? Is [music] it grace or just the wheels still humming?
>> Keep it low, keep it right.
>> Tell me, brother, when the night [music] goes on forever is the moving how we [music] hold ourselves together, hold on [music] for the only way we know to say goodbye.
[music] And the engine keeps on holding [music] that one note underneath the last core [music] underneath my coat.
I won't close the door.
>> I won't say >> I won't say [music] I know.
>> I won't say I know. Just the longheld [singing] tone and the miles to go.
>> Just [music] the miles to go.
Ooh. [music] [music] >> [music] >> lands to the late for the sky era.
Was the night enough?
Was it ever enough for the ones in the [music] front holding on to the sound?
>> Was it [music] ever enough? Did I give you the thing that you [music] came here to find?
But just borrow the light.
Till the trucks rolled around.
>> Till the [music] trucks rolled around.
>> Last [music] light at the ramp.
Last [music] light at the ram.
The cases [music] roll by like a slow parade. Black road [singing] cases and the gaffers tape. The amps go quiet.
[music] The crew don't speak.
>> Just the wheels on the board.
>> In the room I just [music and singing] filled is an empty shape. The mic stands lean like they're half asleep. And [music] the applause that was here, well, it had to leave.
>> It always [music] leaves.
>> And I'm standing here with my coat half on, wondering who I was when the lights were [music and singing] on.
>> Who was that? Who was that man?
>> There's a question the song [singing] never answered yet. And I carried it out like a half paid [music] debt. Was the night enough?
Was it ever enough [music] for the ones in the front holding [music and singing] on to the sound?
>> Was it ever enough?
>> Did I give you the thing [music] that you came here to find or just borrow the light? Till the trucks [music] roll around.
>> Till the trucks roll around.
Oh, there was a [music] woman, three rows from the stage, mouthing the words to a song I outgrew.
>> She [music] knew every line.
>> And a kid with his arms folded tight as a cage [singing] like it dared me to mean what I said. that I [music] knew.
I wanted to thank them. I couldn't say [singing] how.
>> Couldn't find the words now. [music] >> So, I sang it again.
And I'm singing it now.
>> I [music] needed something tonight, too.
Don't ask me to name [singing] it. It slips when I do.
>> It slips when I do. [music] >> Some nights the song is the prayer in the room. Some nights the prayer is the only [music] thing true.
And the cold I'm still holding.
Won't [music] tell me which one.
>> Won't tell me. Won't tell.
>> Was it not enough?
Was it ever [music] enough for the ones in the front? Holding on to the sound.
>> Was it ever enough? Did [music] I give you the thing that you came here to find?
Or just borrow the light? Till the [music] trucks rolled around. Oh, >> till the truck roll around.
[music] Oh, [singing] last light at the ramp.
>> One more call, let it ring.
[music and singing] >> And the door swings closed on the question again. Was the night enough?
>> Was it ever? Was it ever?
>> Was the night [music and singing] enough for anyone?
Hold the cord.
Let it [music and singing] go.
>> [music] [music] [music] >> I'm fine. I'm fine. Just [music] watch the window go by.
Yeah, just watch it roll.
>> I'm fine. [music] I'm fine. But the melody's telling a lie. [singing] Oh, it always [music] does.
>> Coffee gone cold in a paper cup. The miles keep counting [music] the hours up. I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine. I swear I'm fine.
>> [music] >> Dawn through the tinted glass.
A blue line breaking slow.
[music] Somebody snoring two rows back.
And me with nowhere left to go. [music] Here we go again.
[music] Wheels been turning [music] since a quarter 3. The driver hum something only he can hear.
I started writing a verse for [music] you. Then I crossed it out and wrote [singing] the mileage here.
>> Scratch it out, start again.
>> Pin on the napkin, ink on my thumb.
Promises folded and tucked away.
Funny [music] how the morning keeps changing its face. Depending on who's still asleep today. And the same son, same son looks different [music] through every [singing] pain.
>> Oh, it does. It does.
>> Same heart. Same heart. asking the same old name.
I'm fine. I'm [music] fine. Just watch the window go by.
>> Yeah, just [music] watch it roll.
>> I'm fine. I'm fine. But the melody's telling [singing] a lie.
>> It [music] always does.
>> Coffee gone cold in a paper cup. The miles keep counting [music] the hours up.
I'm fine. I'm fine. [singing] I'm fine.
I swear I'm fine.
I had a quarter [music] for the pay phone back at the stop. I let it ride in the [singing] well of the door. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe the next exit down.
[music] Maybe I'll know what I'm calling for.
>> Maybe. Maybe not. There's a kid up front with his head [music and singing] on his coat.
>> Dreaming of someone he hasn't met.
>> And I'm trying to write, but the engine knows. [music] But the page just homes and the ink [singing] won't set. What does it mean to miss someone while you're still [music] becoming who you are?
>> Tell me. [singing] Tell me. What does it mean to call it home when home keeps moving like a star?
I don't have the answer in my pocket.
[music] I don't have it in my head, but the silver [singing] morning keeps on rolling.
>> And maybe [music] that's the closest thing to a plan.
>> Closest thing. Closest thing.
>> I'm fine. [music] I'm fine. Just watch the window go by.
>> Yeah, just watch it roll.
>> I'm fine. I'm [music and singing] fine.
But the melody's telling a lie.
>> Oh, it always does.
>> Coffee [music] gone cold in a paper cup.
The miles keep [music] counting the [singing] hours up. I'm fine. I'm fine.
I'm fine. I swear I'm fine.
[music] >> Same song, [music] >> same window, >> same paper cup. Roll on, >> same question. [music] >> Waking [singing] the rider up. I'll cross it out and I'll write it again.
Somewhere between who [music] I was and who I've been. I'm fine. I'm fine.
>> Roll on silver morning. [music] Roll on.
Roll on.
[music]
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