Turn on the lights, it's time to leave
The car is parked in the rotary
Cover your eyes, repeat after me
Your child is still asleep in the hall
Her dreams have lit up the interstate wall
In the rear-view mirror now you're an apple doll
This motel is celebrating age
The parking lot wind smells like sage
Your headlights shoot out into the desert like rage
The radio finally hits its stride
The sun comes up in a hundred miles
You'll lay your hands down at your sides