Two-lane blacktop splits the sage
Seventeen miles to the next gauge
Headlights cut a narrow cone
Past a water tank of rusted bone
Carbon arc across the windshield glass
Illuminate the miles that we won't pass
Carbon arc burning white and true
Every frame of highway runs through you
Sprocket holes and acetate
Flicker at a quarter past eight
A jackrabbit bolts across the line
Gone before the bulb can shine
Carbon arc across the windshield glass
Illuminate the miles that we won't pass
Carbon arc burning white and true
Every frame of highway runs through you
Seat belt warm against my chest
Saltbush silver, east to west
You hum a hymn you half recall
From some old church with peeling wall
Hold the gate open
Let the light spill through
Hold the gate open
I will drive to you
Cactus wren on a fence post wire
Sun goes down like a struck-match fire
Your hand rests on the gear shift knob
Mine keeps time on the dashboard clock
Carbon arc across the windshield glass
Illuminate the miles that we won't pass
Carbon arc burning white and true
Every frame of highway runs through you
Film runs out at the county line
One last frame of pinyon pine
Projector cools, the lamp goes dark
We coast the shoulder, stop the car
Carbon arc across the windshield glass
Illuminate the miles that we won't pass
Carbon arc burning white and true
Every frame of highway runs through you
Reel is empty
Sky is wide
We drive
