| The sun’s goin' down on those little white lines
|
| There’s a whole lot of home sick, ridin' shotgun on the passenger side
|
| Oh, and what’s up ahead, it’s not quite clear
|
| But everything she knew just keeps gettin' smaller in the rearview mirror
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| '89 Chevrolet
|
| The AC’s busted, but the radio plays
|
| As she flies on faith down the highway
|
| Everybody says she’s dreamin'
|
| Call her crazy for believin'
|
| Sometimes, all you really need is
|
| Fifty dollars and a dashboard Jesus
|
| Maybe she’ll find a little one horse town
|
| Or dip her toes in the sand on the edge of the ocean and put her roots down
|
| Maybe bright city lights will call her name
|
| Long as she’s goin' somewhere, it don’t matter to her either way
|
| Everybody says she’s dreamin'
|
| Call her crazy for believin'
|
| Sometimes, all you really need is
|
| Fifty dollars and a dashboard Jesus
|
| Everybody says she’s dreamin'
|
| Crazy for believin'
|
| But all you really need is
|
| Fifty dollars and a dashboard Jesus
|
| She’s leavin'
|
| Chasin' down the taste of freedom
|
| Sometimes, all you really need is
|
| Fifty dollars and a dashboard Jesus
|
| Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah |