Water patterns on the window shift like static on tv
In the parking lot by the restaurant, silently
Without even the desire for desire, watch the rain rearrange
It's alphabet an infinite meaningless
I stack the miles I hope it's enough
I stack the miles I hope it adds up
Too many miracles here and I can't take no more of the good times I'm done
When the blue gets to deepening and I start thinking bout a drink
And the roadside graves a blur of names go flying by
Ten years of breath condensed on barroom walls
Dawns where liquor leaves the blood
And the tire leaks and the highway's all police like Chekov's gun
I stack the miles I hope it's enough
I stack the miles I hope it adds up
Too many miracles here and I can't take no more of the good times I'm done