The key turns in the ignition, a sound so clear

The rearview holds a town that taught me how to fear

Postcards of a perfect life, they crumble in the dust

I'm trading all their promises for a wanderer's trust

They said, "Be wise, be safe, stay on the ground"

But I hear a different voice and it's the only sound...

I'm driving through the static, a ghost without a home

The radio is broken, but I'm never alone

This engine's my confession, the white line is my church

I'm leaving every version of myself there in the lurch

Let the motor résonne, let the motor résonne

I gave my three-piece suit to a scarecrow in a field

My high heels to a snake for a secret it won't yield

I drank the last of my good grace in a Nevada bar

Now I'm chasing not a place, but the shape of who we are

They said, "You're lost, you're wrong, come back around"

But every mile of asphalt is a holy, rebel sound...

I'm driving through the static, a ghost without a home

The radio is broken, but I'm never alone

This engine's my confession, the white line is my church

I'm leaving every version of myself there in the lurch

Let the motor résonne, let the motor résonne

I am the road. I am the rain.

I am the silence after the pain.

I am the wheel. I am the speed.

I am every outlaw's orphaned creed...

West is where the sun goes to die

West is where I'll learn to fly

The dashboard lights are my only stars

I've crashed through all their imaginary bars

Let the motor... résonne.