Page 43 of Missed Exit

Between the Crude and the Neon

I’m from a long line of tall men with loud mouths

They say loyalty matters and blood is the glue

But all that’s left in their veins is that west Texas crude

It built all their walls, defined them and refined them

And oiled the narrow path they put me on

But it was clear from the jump, I . . .

Well, I was more drawn to the neon

They never got their hands dirty, but shook dirty hands

No busted knuckles, but there’s blood on their land

I was born with their name, but not meant for that life

Night after night, I’m out here chasing a new one

Stuck somewhere between the crude and the neon

Busted some knuckles and done some things wrong

Fighting somewhere between the crude and the neon

They gilded the way, said the road never ends

But I’m the detour where it all goes wrong

Their lost black sheep confessing in songs

I’ve made some mistakes and got some regrets

But I know their legacy ain’t as good as it gets

So I’ll refuse all their offers and keep singing my song

Running from the crude while chasing the neon

They say in the end, it’s family that counts

Well, I’d rather count on this family I’ve found

One sells by the barrel and one buys a round

And I’m a whole lot prouder of this family I’ve found

They never got their hands dirty, but shook dirty hands

No busted knuckles, but there’s blood on their land

I was born with their name, but not meant for that life

Night after night, I’m out here chasing a new one

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