You turned to me and asked me if I'd always be your boy As we drove across the river into western Illinois And on the railroad bridge, half a mile of solid steel Wheels were spitting out sparks, scraping at the rails Wind in your hair, alright Sunset spilling through the rear window Your white t-shirt hugging your shoulders Beaded with sweat On the day that I become so forgetful That all of this melts away I will burn all the calendars that counted the years down To such a worthless day
As we walked across the parking lot towards the motel office We were walking with a benediction on us Light was everywhere, the building stood against the sky Like a monument to desperation, two floors high A mile and a half from the river We went back to the car to get our overnight bags Sunset spilling through your earrings All over your body When we shut the motel room door behind us We knew we'd hit the motherlode On the day that I forget you I hope my heart explodes