You rescued me last night with the windows down and the music loud and the look of freedom bursting from your eyes.
You tore down back roads with no intention of taking me home. You sang louder than me in a mud covered Cherokee and no one stood a chance.
We turned a mountain into a road, it never seemed to end, not one star was covered in the sky and I felt it again.
You swore that old jeep would make the climb and I just kept laughing at the insanity of our time. For once I felt like I was mine. No one else’s.
You rescued me in that dirt covered Cherokee and somehow you helped me re-find me. Singing at the top of our lungs as you carried me along, you always knew how to make me forget.
He can hold my face but I never feel like I can’t escape; he sings to me and it’s just as much for him as for me; he’s my escape in that ’94 Cherokee.