I’ve travelled this road a thousand times or more.
Chained to the wheel like a prisoner of war.
Tyres eating up bitumen like meat to a carnivore.
I’m going nowhere fast and for evermore.
The Scorched road I leave behind.
Playing with my peace of mind.
Things will never be streamlined.
In a life so damn confined.
Five hundred horses under the hood.
Freedom of the road nothing but a falsehood.
The truckies life often misunderstood.
Not conducive to a life of parenthood.
Long hours in the cab, often done all alone.
Borrowing time just like a personal loan.
Never payin’ it back, forever in the zone.
Driving it hard to avoid a gravestone.
Eyelids heavy, they feel like lead.
I should be asleep in the bunk bed.
But I can’t stop, I have to push on ahead.
Cause the banks don’t take payments in loaves of bread.
The drone of the engine keeping me awake.
The night is not far short of becoming daybreak.
If my mind falls asleep there will be heartache.
Because those waiting at home will be attending my wake.
The worst time of the morning is surely sunrise.
Been up all the night and the mind is looking for highs.
The brain goes all mushy and begins to demise.
Looking for a reward sleep is the only damn prize.
But I can’t claim the prize, I just can’t have a snooze.
Nodding off for a second something I must continually refuse.
Falling asleep at the wheel not something I choose.
Cause I may be dead but it’s my family who loose.