Stick Shift in the Church Lot

Lyrics

Sunday afternoon, the church lot empty
Dad's old pickup, clutch like a stubborn mule
He said, son, you don't fight it, you listen
Feel it catch, that's the only rule
I stalled it out by the bell tower shadow
Stalled it by the fence and by the tree
He never raised his voice, just tapped the dashboard
Said, again, and this time breathe with me

Easy on the gas, let the clutch come home
Nobody learns to roll on their own
Somebody sat beside you, hands in his lap
Biting his tongue while you found the map
Easy on the gas, let the clutch come home
Every road I've run, I was never alone
He's long gone now, but I still hear him say
Again, son, you'll find your way

By the time the streetlights started flickering
I had her rolling, first to second gear
He grinned like I had hung the moon above us
Rolled his window down and let the evening in
We circled that lot until the sky was purple
Round and round the painted parking lines
He said, someday you'll drive a long way from here
Just leave a light on, and you'll be fine

Easy on the gas, let the clutch come home
Nobody learns to roll on their own
Somebody sat beside you, hands in his lap
Biting his tongue while you found the map
Easy on the gas, let the clutch come home
Every road I've run, I was never alone
He's long gone now, but I still hear him say
Again, son, you'll find your way

Forty years of highway under my wheels
Ten thousand nights and ten thousand miles
Every time the engine starts to shake
I hear that voice, calm and slow and plain
Breathe, son, breathe

Easy on the gas, let the clutch come home
Nobody learns to roll on their own
Somebody sat beside you, hands in his lap
Biting his tongue while you found the map
Easy on the gas, let the clutch come home
Every road I've run, I was never alone
He's long gone now, but I still hear him say
Again, son, you'll find your way

Again, son, you'll find your way