Ignition Static

[Chorus]
(a cappella)
Hey… uh… look, I know it’s late.
Just… tell Maya her dad ain't rust, just realigned the frame.
Tell her the key finally turned, but the engine sounds strange.
It's runnin' though. That's all. Yeah. It's runnin', through the rain.

[Verse 1]
Thirteenth hour, I-20 West, smellin' like diesel and doubt.
Just towed a busted Altima from a wreck down on Candler South.
Radio cracklin', static was spittin' its mouth out, then I heard it—
That piano loop I bled on, the one you said would never get out the house.
Felt the whole rig swerve a little, hand tight on the vinyl wheel.
Had to pull over by the stadium, just to see if the feelin' was real.
Sounded like Zay's ghost on the organ, my own voice talkin' that talk…
Like a stranger checkin' the locks on a block I used to walk.

[Verse 2]
Remember them nights in the warehouse? Pallet jacks for a metronome?
You said, "This music's a fantasy, Deacon, you need to be home."
And you weren't wrong, but a stripped-out gear still dreams of the road, I guess.
Every child support check was a kick drum, every late fee a snare on the desk.
This ain't a call to gloat, this ain't a hit, it's a signal flare.
Just proof the pressure in the tires is holdin' more than just air.
It's for her school shoes, it's for the braces, a tank full of clean-burnin' gas…
For the promise I made her that my future ain't built like my past.

[Chorus]
Yeah… tell Maya her dad ain't rust, just realigned the frame.
Tell her the key finally turned, but the engine sounds strange.
It's runnin' though. That's all. Yeah. It's runnin', through the rain.
Just runnin', through the rain.

[Outro]
Anyway… just… tell her I love her. Aight? Call you back.
(click)