I used to hate all my dad's outlaw country bands He'd play me when I was young 'Cause they'd lie through their teeth about the lives They lead when all I wanted were honest songs But now they're anthems in the van And we're screaming them out on highway For good luck in the bright blistering sun Runnin' toward the light on the shoulder of a dream I'm singing in my sleep Runnin' toward the light Stagger through the streets I sing it in my sleep Cream fights through the truck stop coffee here in quiet, purple dawn Last night we played another highway Bar, for the first time they sang along Spray-paint a twenty up on the overpass, Like a blood pact with the drifters We've become in the soft, burgeoning sun This is for Rosa and Catherine and Mom and Dad This is for Robert and Jesse and Thunderbird staff I'm gonna make you proud of me I'm gonna make you proud of me I'm gonna make you proud of me