[INTRO — low diesel idle, tires hissing over wet pavement, faint CB static] 2:17 A.M. No moon. No traffic. Just eighteen wheels cutting a black line through nowhere. Mile markers rise in the headlights and fall behind me like tombstones. The manifest says nothing. The seal says less. But I know what I’m hauling. Not freight. Not something you can weigh. Pieces of something the world forgot it needed. So I keep the Raven pointed toward the dark... And I don’t miss a delivery. [VERSE 1] White lines bleed beneath my wheels, Blacktop humming under steel. Coffee cold, eyes burning red, Another thousand miles ahead. Every town is sleeping deep, While I carry what they couldn’t keep. Mile markers pass like tombstones in the night, Names and numbers swallowed by my lights. No one knows what’s sealed behind, No weight on paper, no name assigned. But somewhere up ahead, somebody waits For one small piece I’ve carried across the states. [PRE-CHORUS] So let the dead air crackle. Let the midnight call. I keep the Raven pointed toward the dark... And I don’t miss a delivery. [CHORUS] I carry pieces through the midnight, One for every soul along the line. A little truth for those who lost it, A little fire for those still trying. From city lights to roads forgotten, Every fragment finds where it belongs. I don’t ask who sent me driving— I just keep these eighteen wheels rolling on. Through the static, through the weather, Through every place the shadows fall... I keep the Raven pointed toward the dark. And I don’t miss a delivery. [VERSE 2] County lines and borders vanish, Different tongues on every sign. But whatever sleeps behind me Doesn’t care where nations draw their lines. Leave a piece beneath a streetlight, Leave another by a door. Some will know it when they find it. Some won’t know what they’re looking for. And somewhere in the rearview darkness, Something changes when I leave— Like the world gets back a sentence It had forgotten how to read. [PRE-CHORUS] No signature. No questions. No reason left to stall. Just another destination somewhere beyond the dark. So let the dead air crackle. Let the midnight call. [CHORUS] I carry pieces through the midnight, One for every soul along the line. A little truth for those who lost it, A little fire for those still trying. From city lights to roads forgotten, Every fragment finds where it belongs. I don’t ask who sent me driving— I just keep these eighteen wheels rolling on. Through the static, through the weather, Through every place the shadows fall... I keep the Raven pointed toward the dark. And I don’t miss a delivery. [BRIDGE — instruments pull back; engine drone and low bass remain] There are roads that aren’t on any map. Names that never reach the manifest. Places where the signal disappears and the darkness does the rest. I’ve crossed mountains under black skies. Watched oceans disappear behind. And every time that trailer gets a little lighter... Something out there comes alive. So if you’re standing in the darkness and you hear that diesel roll— Maybe what I’m carrying tonight has your name written on its soul. [BREAKDOWN — CB static] “Raven... you copy?” [static] “Keep moving.” [engine revs] [FINAL CHORUS] I carry pieces through the midnight, One for every soul along the line. A little truth for those who lost it, A little fire for those still trying. Across every border, every ocean, Every road beneath the same black sky, I’ll keep hauling what was broken till the last piece finds the reason why. Through the static, through the weather, Through every place the shadows fall... I keep the Raven pointed toward the dark. And I don’t miss a delivery. [OUTRO — stripped down, spoken] Dawn starts bleeding through the windshield. Another empty trailer. Another city waking up with something it didn’t have yesterday. I don’t need to know what they call it. I know what I carried. [CB static] And there’s another load waiting. [engine shifts into gear] So I turn the Raven back toward the dark... and drive.
