I’m sitting next to you, watching the asphalt blur
In that beat-up truck you love
You keep tapping on the dashboard like a drummer
While the sun hangs high above
I scan the stations, trying to find a track
You ask, "Honey, why so quiet in the back?"
I say, "I’m searching for a tune that fits us right"
You just grin and squint into the light

You say, we don’t need a choir or a band
Just the gravel crunching under these tires across the land
It’s the whisper in the dark when the house is asleep
The secrets that we promised we would always keep
It’s the sound of your boots on the hardwood floor
And the bark of the dog when you open up the door
I don’t need a record spinning round and round
Cause loving you is the sweetest sound

I was having a bad week, feeling kinda low
Like nothing was going my way
Came home tired, moving kinda slow
Ready to call it a day
But then I saw it, taped up on the fridge
A little drawing of us standing on the bridge
And a letter saying you’d be home by ten
And suddenly I heard that music again

Yeah, we don’t need a choir or a band
Just the gravel crunching under these tires across the land
It’s the whisper in the dark when the house is asleep
The secrets that we promised we would always keep
It’s the sound of your boots on the hardwood floor
And the bark of the dog when you open up the door
I don’t need a record spinning round and round
Cause loving you is the sweetest sound

I’ve listened to the hits, the top forty charts
But none of them know how to speak to our hearts
They don’t know the rhythm of a Sunday afternoon
Or the way you whistle when you leave the room

No, we don’t need a choir or a band
Just the gravel crunching under these tires across the land
It’s the whisper in the dark when the house is asleep
The secrets that we promised we would always keep
It’s the sound of your boots on the hardwood floor
And the bark of the dog when you open up the door
I don’t need a record spinning round and round
Cause loving you is the sweetest sound

I’m sitting next to you, watching the asphalt blur
In that beat-up truck you love
I took a marker and a piece of cardboard
And I wrote down the melody we make
Yeah, I wrote down the melody we make

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