The Truck Still Starts

Hmm. Hmm. Every spring I turn the key. Just to hear what's left of me. The engine coughs, the dashboard glows. Same old truck, thirty years old. There's dust upon the passenger seat. Where your muddy boots would rest their feet. And every mile down County Road, Still feels like bringing you back home. Folks say time can heal a man. But time don't always work that way. The truck still starts on the first try. Like you never said goodbye. That old V8 still shakes the ground. And turns the silence into sound. The truck still starts, the years move on. But some things stay, while others are gone. The world says you're no longer here. But you're still Still riding riding with with me, Me, son. Son. Your fishing pole is in the back, Leaning where you left it at. The radio still fades between The songs we loved at seventeen. The Johnson boys have families now. Life kept moving somehow. But when they stop and ask about you, I see the years come shining through. Some hearts break and then repair. Some just learn to carry what was there. The truck still starts on the first try. Like you never said goodbye. That old V8 still shakes the ground. And turns the silence into sound. The truck still starts, the years move on. But some things stay when others are gone. The world says you're no longer here. But you're still riding with me, Son. Maybe love ain't holding on. Maybe love is carrying someone. Long after they're gone. The truck still starts on the first try. Like you never said goodbye. That That old old V8 V8 still still shakes The ground. Hmm. And turns the silence into sound. One day I'll lay these keys back down. Leave this truck and leave this town. But until my own road is done. You'll still be riding with me, Son. The truck still starts. Every spring. The truck still starts. And for a little while, So do I. Hmm