When your tank’s on empty, I’m that extra mile.
I’m that light that quits flashing when you flick the dial.
I gave the Lord himself a lift when he was just a child.
I’m bridges and I’m highways, I’m motorbikes and trains.
I’m that first glimpse of the Rockies after the Alberta plains.
I’m dark glasses in the sun, windscreen wipers in the rain.
I used to be a saint, man, but I got tossed,
But I carried the Lord before he carried that cross.
I used to be a saint, man, but I got tossed.
So who are you gonna pray to when you get lost?
When your eyes are feelin’ heavy, I’m that dirty motel six.
Or if there ain’t no time for sleeping, I’m that late night caffeine fix.
I do it for the Lord, man, I ain’t in it for the kicks.
I’m the mix-tapes in the glovebox, when the conversation wanes.
I’m the drumming on the steering wheel, the hook in the refrain.
I’m ‘Back in Black,’ and ‘Radar Love,’ I’m ‘Like a Hurricane.’
I’m the breath in your airbag, I’m the belt across your chest.
I’m the voice that tells you when it’s time to take a rest.
But I ain’t no speed camera, sure ain’t no breathalyzer test.
I used to be saint, you know, but they called it a mistake.
Those bpys in Rome said there ain’t no giants in no lakes.
But they’ll damn well miss me when there’s no fluid in their brakes.
Every five years or so, Jim Clements emerges to drop a collection of literate, witty, surreal, gut-wrenching songs, before
disappearing again into the shadows. A songwriter’s songwriter in the tradition of Leonard Cohen, Townes Van Zandt, and Nick Cave, his songs have earned him critical acclaim and a devoted following over his fifteen-year career....more