The headlights carve a path through the pines,
Gravel kicking up in the rearview shine.
A radio hums, soft and low,
Like the heartbeat of a road I know.
The windβs got secrets, it whispers my name,
Calling me back to where I came.
On these backroads, where the stars donβt fade,
Where the night wraps βround like a warm cascade.
Itβs a long way home, but I donβt mind,
I lose myself and find my time.
On these backroads, oh, these backroads.
Thereβs a diner light flickering down by the bend,
The kind of place where time pretends.
Coffee cups clink, and stories unfold,
Voices as warm as the biscuits they hold.
The smell of rain on a dusty lane,
It soothes my soul, it numbs the pain.
On these backroads, where the stars donβt fade,
Where the night wraps βround like a warm cascade.
Itβs a long way home, but I donβt mind,
I lose myself and find my time.
On these backroads, oh, these backroads.
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