Best of Many Days

Words and Music Michael Veitch

(c)2020 Burt Street Music All Rights Reserved

My father drove a Pontiac to his dying day

After years of wishing and hoping and praying

He believed in whiskey and miracles in the air

He believed in the angels, believed in the angels out there

He said ride with me to the end of the long white line

Where the most beautiful smile hangs there in the sky

All red gold and blue, an electric wild eye

Those are the angels, those are angels on fire

Beyond that neon and the shimmer in the mist

Miles from here the place where the broken find some rest

And the dust it gets washed down with every last ounce of regrets

And the ice it never melts, and the juke box never quits it never quits

We let no rain fall between us

We’re the last of the line here

Singing sweet as darkness calls us

Under skies so near

Believing in the whiskey and the miracles in the air

Don’t forget to make your wishes don’t forget to say your prayers

My father drove a Pontiac…etc.