White Lines from True by James Low

White Lines
Worn gears grinding
Got to get some road behind me
I’m never looking back again
I don’t believe they’ll ever understand
How the highway feels to a broken hearted man.

Wheels turn leaves fall
I dreamed I saw a bird
Flying across the moon
The sky had opened up to me
With new eyes I began to see

I tried to hold it steady right into the storm
I held on like the dream was my own
But the whispers grow
When the south winds blow
And the red lights turn into dawn

White lines
18 wheels
Flying down the road
I’m never looking back again
I don’t believe they’ll ever understand
How the highway feels to a broken hearted man.

• Country
• folk
• poet rock
• rock
• roots
• Portland