For twenty years now he’s run the Nullarbor.
4000 ks of bitumen from east to west coast shore.
Log books and speed limits to important to ignore.
A maximum of four whole days to do it door to door.
A desire for the open road old Kenny loved to cruise.
The country side, the ocean scape, t’was all about the views.
The peace and quiet, the solitude were all to good to refuse.
But what it was he really missed was the ability to snooze.
Burning up the bitumen he loved his trucking life.
Only thing he cared for more was Rhonda his beloved wife.
Love and adoration for ever running rife.
A love that never wavered even when he was in strife.
The long straight highway of life it did elicit a smile.
For every single second and for every tired mile.
Day after day, week after week, it were just another trial.
He loved his wife, he loved the road and he loved it all the while.
Whether hauling loads of timber, or just some general freight.
It was being on the road all day that made the job so great.
Of course he loved his wife and hated to make her wait.
Alone at home each week for days of up to eight.
Coming home late last night his road train was derailed.
A strangers car was leaving home the story was unveiled.
His beloved wife, a cheating life, his marriage was curtailed.
Grinding steel, smashing glass, he claimed his brakes had failed.
80 tonnes of semi truck no match for the little coupe.
Twisted mangled steel the noise a screaming scroop.
The accident was over in one almighty swoop.
The failed brakes, the accident, forever Kenny’s dupe