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She was driving last Friday on her way to Cincinnati
On a snow white Christmas Eve
Going home to see her Mama and her Daddy with the baby in the backseat
Fifty miles to go and she was running low on faith and gasoline
It'd been a long hard year
She had a lot on her mind and she didn't pay attention
she was going way too fast
Before she knew it she was spinning on a thin black sheet of glass

Ждут рассвета светлячки,
катастрофу маячки,
ждут причалы, корабли, и скалы ждут.
Океаны ждут китов.
Ждут пропавших моряков.
Ждут сокровища, что скоро их найдут.

Мне легко ведь знаю я,