[Verse 1] My bones are borrowed metal. My lungs are borrowed rain. I woke up in this chassis with a name stitched to the pain. Hands on the wheel of morning, eyes on the mile ahead. But I am not this dashboard. I am the one it led. Oil on the roadside gravel. Dust on the rubber tread. Still, something holy follows every place my body’s fed. [Pre-Chorus] And I hear that small, still pull, from farther than I’ve been. Like a mother calling home through the static of the skin. [Chorus] We are souls in vehicles on the highway to Zion. Souls in vehicles on the highway to Zion. Keep rolling, keep rolling till the veil comes undone. Souls in vehicles on the highway to Zion. [Verse 2] I saw a man by the shoulder with smoke in his tired coat. He said, “Don’t trust the rusting frame. It will sink before the vote.” A little girl in the backseat kept asking, “Where do we go?” Her laugh hit the windshield clean like light through winter snow. Every exit tried to name us. Every sign said, “Turn back now.” But the road kept writing mercy on the hood of my body somehow. [Pre-Chorus] And the engine of the evening was coughing up the dark, but I felt another fire wake up deep inside the spark. [Chorus] We are souls in vehicles on the highway to Zion. Souls in vehicles on the highway to Zion. Keep rolling, keep rolling till the veil comes undone. Souls in vehicles on the highway to Zion. [Bridge] So if this frame breaks down by the ditch or the gate, don’t you call it the end. Call it weight. Call it clay returning, call it breath released. I’ll leave these keys on the altar and walk into the peace. [Final Chorus] We are souls in vehicles on the highway to Zion. Souls in vehicles on the highway to Zion. Keep rolling, keep rolling till the veil comes undone. Souls in vehicles on the highway to Zion.
