Smoke

Yet I still believe somewhere ahead,
There's more than ghosts and roads gone dead.
Till then, I ride through dust and dark,
Trying to keep a life warm and honest spark.
Every mile strips something clean.
Every loss rewrote me mean.
But paint can carve a wiser soul if it don't swallow you whole.
Met a preacher in a run-down town,
Said son don't let the hate tie you down.
I just smiled and tipped my hat,
Kept driving into the black.