Rain streaks the windshield like a blind man's tears
Thirty years of fares and wasted years
Coffee thermos steams on passenger seat
Radio plays static down Division Street
Meter clicks off dollars by the mile
Fake leather cracks beneath a forced smile
Crossroads station glows through pouring rain
Silver needle waits beneath the canopy's stain
That compass don't know north from south
Just spins where the diesel fumes come out
But I keep it close when the night gets long
A silver prayer in a driver's song
Pickup at the corner of Fifth and Main
Lady in a trench coat dodging rain
She asks me which way the highway bends
I tap the glass where the needle ends
That compass don't know north from south
Just spins where the diesel fumes come out
But I keep it close when the night gets long
A silver prayer in a driver's song
Mechanic said the magnet's dead and gone
But it points true when I'm driving on
Every fare a story, every turn a page
Written in the margins of a minimum wage
Dawn cracks the horizon pink and gray
Another shift done, another day
Compass rests in the glove box dark
Waiting for the next engine start
Young kid asks me how I know the way
I smile and say I just obey
The needle that don't know north from south
But keeps this old hack moving out
That compass don't know north from south
Just spins where the diesel fumes come out
But I keep it close when the night gets long
A silver prayer in a driver's song
Yeah it points me home when the road goes wrong
A silver prayer in a driver's song
Meter clicks the night away
Silver needle saves the day
