o city lights

Gregory Alan Isakov

Maria s stoned like a porcelain saint
Sweet morphine
Sweet morphine

Curls a smile when the sadness hits
Finds my face with fingertips

Have you seen her
The daughter of the hum of the highway
She s curling up like smoke

Oh city lights fly at this speed
Oh heaven knows
It ain t me behind the wheel
This time

Through the hills, you can hear them sing
Ah maria, ah maria