Somebody spray-painted your name on the overpass,

Spelled it wrong but I guess that don’t matter.

Fifty bucks says your mom still thinks you’re coming back,

She don’t know you’re just a ghost in the rafters.

The gas station clerk still talks about you,

Says you always swore you’d leave this town.

Guess the highway had other ideas,

Guess the sirens sang too loud.

Good kids die in parking lots,

Too much liquor, too much loss.

Too many nights with a head full of dreams,

Too many fights with the ghosts in the street.

Nobody writes their names in stone,

Just in dust on abandoned homes.

A couple old photos, a candle, a cross,

Good kids die in parking lots.

Somebody said you almost made it past state lines,

Guess ‘almost’ is as good as goodbye.

I pass by your house but the blinds stay shut,

A porch light still on, just wasting time.

I talk to the sky like maybe you hear me,

Ask if heaven looks like Route 23.

Maybe you made it, maybe you didn’t,

Maybe the angels still drive SUVs.

Good kids die in parking lots,

Too much liquor, too much loss.

Too many nights with a head full of dreams,

Too many fights with the ghosts in the street.

Nobody writes their names in stone,

Just in dust on abandoned homes.

A couple old photos, a candle, a cross,

Good kids die in parking lots.

Somebody spray-painted your name on the overpass,

Spelled it wrong, but I guess that don’t matter.