The story behind this song
For ten years the passenger seat had one owner — head out the window, ears flying, thumping his tail the second the keys came off the hook. Gas station, vet, or state-line drive, he never asked where or why. There's still nose art on the windshield, hair in the vents, and a biscuit in the console tray that nobody can throw away.
Now the bench seat's wearing his shape and the wind's got no one to chase. For the driver who still reaches over at red lights, and takes the long way home on purpose — because some riders you just don't replace.
Lyrics
Rolled the window halfway down
Old habit, I guess
You liked the wind in town
Old habit, I guess
You liked the wind in town
Ten years you held the shotgun seat
Head out the window, ears flying free
You never asked me where or why
Gas station, vet, or state line drive
You'd thump that tail when I grabbed the keys
Like every errand was a victory
Head out the window, ears flying free
You never asked me where or why
Gas station, vet, or state line drive
You'd thump that tail when I grabbed the keys
Like every errand was a victory
Now the bench seat's wearing your shape
And the wind's got no one to chase
And the wind's got no one to chase
Ride along, shotgun rider
Every backroad's still got room for you
Dust on the dash, your blanket beside her
Old girl runs better when you're riding too
I don't take the short way home no more
Buddy, that was always your cue
Ride along, shotgun rider
Every mile, I'm still hauling you
Every backroad's still got room for you
Dust on the dash, your blanket beside her
Old girl runs better when you're riding too
I don't take the short way home no more
Buddy, that was always your cue
Ride along, shotgun rider
Every mile, I'm still hauling you
You left nose art on the windshield glass
Hair in the vents — I let that last
The feed store guys still ask about my friend
I say he's riding, just around the bend
There's a biscuit in the console tray
I can't bring myself to throw away
Hair in the vents — I let that last
The feed store guys still ask about my friend
I say he's riding, just around the bend
There's a biscuit in the console tray
I can't bring myself to throw away
Now the bench seat's wearing your shape
And the wind's got no one to chase
And the wind's got no one to chase
Ride along, shotgun rider
Every backroad's still got room for you
Dust on the dash, your blanket beside her
Old girl runs better when you're riding too
I don't take the short way home no more
Buddy, that was always your cue
Ride along, shotgun rider
Every mile, I'm still hauling you
Every backroad's still got room for you
Dust on the dash, your blanket beside her
Old girl runs better when you're riding too
I don't take the short way home no more
Buddy, that was always your cue
Ride along, shotgun rider
Every mile, I'm still hauling you
Someday this truck'll quit on me
And some kid'll buy her off the yard
He'll find the nose art on the glass
And wonder what rode shotgun this far
Everything, kid. Everything did.
And some kid'll buy her off the yard
He'll find the nose art on the glass
And wonder what rode shotgun this far
Everything, kid. Everything did.
Ride along, shotgun rider
Every backroad's still got room for you
Dust on the dash, your blanket beside her
Old girl runs better when you're riding too
The seat stays yours, the window stays cracked
That's just how me and you do
Ride along, shotgun rider
Every mile, I'm still hauling you
Every backroad's still got room for you
Dust on the dash, your blanket beside her
Old girl runs better when you're riding too
The seat stays yours, the window stays cracked
That's just how me and you do
Ride along, shotgun rider
Every mile, I'm still hauling you
Long way home tonight
You'd have liked this light
You'd have liked this light
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