Morning rests its weary head on my shoulder
as I hold up the day,
it's a good life when you're driving fast
and I'm watching the world through the window
like a television screen.
We're still in town,
but so far away it doesn't matter anymore.
Hear the angels singing in my sleeping eyes,
you lay awake without me for a moment,
and that's alright,
cause your breath is resting on my neck,
close enough for dawn.
