Borrowed Danger

[Verse 1]
The stadium lights on a '98 Ford Ranger,
paint all chipped, full of rust and borrowed danger.
Mama smooths her good dress, the one with the mended tear,
Daddy counts the quarters out, pretending not to care.

[Pre-Chorus]
And they drive down Route 50, past the houses with the perfect lawns,
where the porch lights burn like promises 'til the break of every dawn.
There's a knot of quiet pride in the space between the seats,
a fragile thing for sale out on these ordinary streets.

[Chorus]
'Cause they don't keep score with grace around here,
they just count what you can lose, year after year.

[Verse 2]
Every Friday night in late October,
the cold of the aluminum bench is how you know it's over.
There's a space beside her shoulder, a gap against the rail,
big enough to hold a ghost, familiar and so frail.

[Pre-Chorus]
And the air tastes like diesel and burnt sugar from the kettle corn stand,
while a different kind of hunger is getting out of hand.
"They got heart," the coach's wife will say, a kindness meant to sting,
like throwing pennies at the silence a real loss can bring.

[Chorus]
'Cause they don't keep score with grace around here,
they just count what you can lose, year after year.

[Bridge]
She can darn a ripped pocket, she can patch a worn-out knee,
but there ain't a thread in heaven or hell to fix what's come to be.

[Outro]
Just a line of red taillights, fading and so small.
Yeah, they don't keep score at all.