The story
He keeps circling back before he ever comes to rest.
A truck rolls through the dust again and again, slowing at the edge, then pulling off like it still has something to prove. Somebody waits by the window, a hand on the sill, watching for the same headlights to turn in and stay a while. The engine idles, the moment hangs, and nobody moves first.
No lyric sheet is published for this track, so this reading is drawn from its title and the sound of the record.
Lyrics
The lyric sheet for this one isn't published yet — press play and listen along.