Voices in the Rearview

Yeah. Roads unwinding, hands are tied. One eye on the edge,

one on the light. Left some things I can't reclaim, but they whisper

just the same. Radio's on but I don't hear. Too busy dodging ghosts and fear.

Every mile should make them fade, but they ride the wind like they were made.

I changed the route, I left the town. But the voices

still track me down. They're calling from the rearview now. Names I buried

deep somehow. Telling me I won't outrun everything I've said and done.

But I've got fire in my lungs and wheels that won't come undone.