she calls herself highways and gasoline,
‘n I don’t doubt it,
but darlin’ there’s only the one darlin’,
‘n she’s menthols ‘n vices that ain’t kind to mornings.
I’ve written more songs about her than I could ever drink,
and they keep deluging themselves to page.
when I see her highways from home,
life plays the greatest travelin’ song,
with nicotine verses ‘n bitter sweet chorus,
but I ain’t givin’ up the singin’ of it for anything.
