letra de mileage - brian vander ark
right turn,
the neighborhood
is pretty quiet for a weekday.
left turn,
the same one way
to work almost everyday.
p-ss by the high school,
a memory rerun
when i was seventeen
couldn’t wait for twenty-one.
i p-ss by the church
where i married you
when you were twenty-one
and i was twenty-two.
a stop sign,
a chance to clear my mind
before the workday.
then a right turn
is where i catch
another glimpse of the highway.
so i speed p-ss the building,
i always wanted to
since i was twenty-one,
almost twenty-two.
if i’d had the nerve,
i’d have quit there before
you turned twenty-three
and couldn’t take me anymore.
the well known
sits in a cloud of dust
of on this weekday.
my cell phone
is in about a million pieces
on the highway.
speed down the highway,
rack up the miles.
one hundred twenty-one,
a hundred twenty-two.
roll down the window,
roll out the miles.
one hundred twenty-three,
a hundred twenty-four.
and straight down the highway,
the road offers no guarantees.
(one thousand twenty-one,
one thousand twenty-two.)
drive through the morning,
drive into the sun,
and i’m free.
(one thousand twenty-three,
one thousand twenty-four)
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