Thousand mile night, Mobile to Michigan Old radio plays but nobody listens But whose gonna hold her when you cross the state line Fingers on the wheel like birds on the grapevine High-beam-moonlight rattle on the dash Thousand mile night gonna make it last Mississippi preacher, smoking in the backseat Riding through the badlands, cornfields, buckwheat Taillight missing like a gold-tooth bar fight Axel getting creaking, mama something don’t feel right High-beam-moonlight rattle on the dash Thousand mile night gonna make it last Bowling Green coffee burning on the insides Motel waitress looks good from the left side Kokomo clouds rolling like a freight train Drunk on miles spun on black rain High-beam-moonlight rattle on the dash Thousand mile night gonna make it last Thousand mile night Mobile to Michigan Brother in the pine-box, mother in the kitchen Shotgun funeral, death, and dirty dishes Old radio plays but nobody listens Old radio plays but nobody listens Old radio plays but nobody listens Old radio plays but nobody listens