[Verse 1] Remote FOB, bad connection, November wind against the wire Thirty-seven years behind me, still a little road ahead to tire I signed my name into a window, then let that account go quiet Came home to Ashley and four small hearts, learned a different kind of riot [Pre-Chorus] I kept the work behind a firewall Kept the hard days out of sight But one red light in late March Turned the page back on that night [Chorus] Thank you, little headlights, for carrying me home When my hands were shaking and I couldn’t face the road alone Four kids in the backseat, Ashley by my side A battered car, a borrowed truck, and a reason to stay alive Call it Therapy Toaster, call it what you will Sometimes a machine gives a tired man the strength to heal [Verse 2] Four-point-one miles to Raleigh, metal folded at a stop I thought my head was splitting, but I drove that wounded body to the shop Then the Y took a hit outside the doctor, another bill, another scene We needed wheels and groceries, not a lecture on what healing means [Pre-Chorus] So I signed for something heavy Paid the title in my own name A square blue promise on four tires And a little room to breathe again [Chorus] Thank you, little headlights, for carrying me home When my hands were shaking and I couldn’t face the road alone Four kids in the backseat, Ashley by my side A battered car, a borrowed truck, and a reason to stay alive Call it Therapy Toaster, call it what you will Sometimes a machine gives a tired man the strength to heal [Bridge] Daisy left at sixteen, and the house went still Dad’s voice on the phone, his projects on the windowsill Migraines in the morning, curtains closed at noon Still there’s a toddler laughing, making breakfast out of the room I don’t need a perfect ending I don’t need the world to know Just a clear enough horizon And four good reasons not to go [Final Chorus] Thank you, little headlights, for carrying me home Past the salt marsh and the pine trees, past the places I had known Ashley in the passenger seat, our whole life in the rear The road is rough, the sky is wide, and I’m still here Call it Therapy Toaster, call it what you will Sometimes a machine gives a tired man the strength to heal [Outro] From a far-off post with a failing signal To a coastal road beneath the Carolina blue I was quiet for a long time Now I’m driving through
