i first saw her by the county fair ferris wheel,
sunset on her sleeve, lipstick with a dare.
his truck was old, tailgate down, radio low,
she laughed, slid in the cab, said "let the backroads go."
secret letters in the glovebox, midnight ink, our names,
stolen slow-dance on the church lawn, soft and unashamed.
we swore by creeks and cornfields, moonlit, unafraid,
two maps that shouldn’t meet but somehow found the same way.
mama warned me, daddy crossed his arms,
neighbors spread the rumors like a house of charms.
but when that porch light cuts the dark in two,
all the world falls quiet, and i’m only looking at you.
under the porch light, baby, we won't hide,
backroad confessions where our worlds collide.
they can line the fences, try to divide,
but we carved our names in the cab of a ride.
friday night, barn doors swinging, uncle’s voice went loud,
they called him trouble, put our faces in the crowd.
she danced with her head on my shoulder, slow and brave,
past the preacher’s whisper, past the county grave.
they slammed doors like verdicts, put signs up on the lane,
neighbors passed judgment like a cold autumn rain.
i learned your middle name in the hush after the fight,
you learned my stubborn heart by the glow of the headlight.
under the porch light, baby, we won't hide,
backroad confessions where our worlds collide.
they can line the fences, try to divide,
but we carved our names in the cab of a ride.
check it — tailgate, two hearts, one crate of secrets,
paper tucked in a bible, prayers, and quick resets.
midnight train plans, map ripped from the atlas,
mama's eyes burning holes through the back glass.
they stake claims, they draw lines in the dirt,
say "stay put, keep your skirts clean, don’t get hurt." —
we move like shadows, soft steps, bootprints in mud,
kiss stolen in moonlight, taste like sweat and blood.
short rhyme, sharp time, heart drum, hi-hat snap,
we ride or run, no plan b on this map.
they shout laws, call us wrong, call it sin,
but every outlaw love's a bible where our story begins.
if they build a wall, i’ll burn the fence down.
if they take your name, i’ll still say it loud.
we got one suitcase, two tickets, no plan but a vow.
three am, keys in the ignition, gravel sings,
headlights cut the night, we fold up our rings.
said we’d cross state lines, trade hometown scars for stars,
swap our last names for street signs and bars.
fast words, breath short — can you hear me? i’m counting.
one heart, two shadows, bridges we’re mounting.
they can call the sheriff, they can call the law,
but there’s no warrant for the way that we hurt or the way that we thaw.
line rhyme, foot grind, we sprint from the past,
this love’s not a moment — it’s a freight train, running fast.
under the porch light, baby, we won't hide,
on
