Missed a lot of signs...
Can’t miss this one.

No bass in the floor, just wood and wire,
Thumb on the strings like a hand on a tire.
Night run thin, my cool run thinner,
Voice sound plain when the room get smaller.
I done wore nice lies like a tailored jacket,
Kept the hurt pressed flat, kept the truth in traffic.
Smooth talk, low jaw, made the damage sound smart,
Turned a long way home to a form of art.
But the road got quiet, and the quiet got teeth,
Cut clean through the style I was hidin’ beneath.
No crowd in the dark, no glass to perform in—
Just me and the part of me tired of morphin’.

Last exit for the honest...
Last exit, and I know it.
If I pass this one too,
I’m just drivin’ with the ghost of it.
Last exit for the honest...
No excuse left on the dash.
Either I say it like it is,
Or I keep disappearin’ fast.

I called my fear “focus,” called my pride “self-respect,”
Called my distance “peace” when I was duckin’ the wreck.
Kept a clean white shirt on a smoke-black chest,
Told myself if it looked calm, then it had to be less.
But the prettiest language still rot from within,
Still crack at the corners when you lean on it wrong.
And I leaned on it hard— every polished reply,
Every “I’m good” I wore like a lock on my life.
I ain’t askin’ for mercy, ain’t beggin’ for light,
Just one real line from my own mouth tonight.
No halo in the mirror, no angel in the seat—
Just a man hearin’ truth in the scrape of the strings.

Maybe honest don’t look noble.
Maybe it look late.
Maybe it sound like your own name
Without the coat on it.
Without the game.
Without the grace you used to fake.
Mm...
Maybe late still count.

Last exit for the honest...
Last exit, and I took it.
Not clean, not cured,
Just done dressin’ pain up good.
Last exit for the honest...
No sermon in the dark.
Just the truth sittin’ still
While I finally let it mark me.

No speed left in it...
Just the turn.
Last exit for the honest.