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