(Spoken Word Recitation - Low, gravelly, and intimate. Close to the mic.)They give you a number when you walk through those steel gates.They count you like cattle, lock you in a cage, and leave you with nothing but the ghosts of what you did.For years, my life was measured in milligrams and track marks.The sting of the needle was the only thing that told me I was still alive,Even though I was dying a little bit more every single day.I was running from a past that was gaining on me,Stuck in a ditch of my own making, drowning out the whispers of the man I was supposed to be.(The guitar picks up a steady, train-like driving rhythm, building tension.)But you can’t outrun a shadow in the dark.It wasn't until I hit the cold concrete floor, broken and entirely alone,That I looked up through the bars and finally saw the light.He didn't care about the prison blues, the track marks, or the wasted years.He just took my hand, lifted me out of the dirt, and told me to look ahead.(Chorus - Sung with raw, gritty emotion. The music swells with a dark, driving country-rock tempo.)'Cause that windshield is wide, and the rearview is small,I’m looking at the road ahead, I ain't looking back at all.The needles and the chains, they belong to the dead,I’m walking with Jesus for the miles left ahead.Yeah, the rearview mirror only shows where I’ve been,But the windshield is showing me a man born again.(Spoken Word Recitation - The music drops back down to a sparse, pulsing acoustic rhythm.)Every morning I wake up, it’s a brand new battle.The devil likes to whisper about the wreckage left behind.He wants me to look back. He wants me to stare at the wreckage.But a wise man told me that the windshield is huge for a reason,And that little mirror on the glass is only meant for a glance.Where I’m going is beautiful. Where I’ve been is gone.I take it step by step, walking each day with Christ,Just trying to be a better man today than the ghost I left yesterday.(A haunting, soulful slide guitar solo rips through the darkness, heavy with emotion, bridging the pain of the past with the hope of the future.)(Chorus - Sung with maximum power and conviction.)'Cause that windshield is wide, and the rearview is small,I’m looking at the road ahead, I ain't looking back at all.The needles and the chains, they belong to the dead,I’m walking with Jesus for the miles left ahead.Yeah, the rearview mirror only shows where I’ve been,But the windshield is showing me a man born again.(Outro - Spoken Word Recitation. The music slowly fades back down to just the single, steady acoustic guitar strum.)So let the dust settle on the highway behind me.Let the rearview fade to black.I’ve got my hands on the wheel, my eyes on the horizon,And the Lord riding shotgun.One mile at a time.One day at a time.Amen.
