| There’s nothing can wipe out my fear of burnin',
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| And that’s why the trucks won’t let me sleep at night,
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| My window overlooks the highway goin' out,
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| And the interstaters roll through every night,
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| I look out and see the semis down below me,
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| Grinding to a halt before the lights.
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| There’s a Bulldog Mack with old Bob in the cabin,
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| And I wonder what the next big rig will be,
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| Maybe Old Red Ned or even the Mary Kathleen,
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| And the next to roll I know should be me.
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| And I don’t sleep at night because the trucks won’t let me,
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| Wheels are rollin' thunder in my brain,
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| The bottle by my side keeps back the nightmares,
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| 'Til the sound of diesels bring it back again,
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| And I still can see the flames on Razor Mountain,
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| Oh I smell the smoke and feel it blur my sight
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| There’s nothing can wipe out my fear of burnin',
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| And that’s why the trucks won’t let me sleep at night,
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| No transport boss will take me on because they say,
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| I’m not the driver now I used to be,
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| They seem to think the bottle’s really got me down,
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| Ah but put me in the cabin and they’ll see,
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| And I’ll bet my hands are steady as the next mans,
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| And I sometimes think there’s diesel in my veins,
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| Oh whatever reason could there be from feelin',
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| The way I do about the old four lanes.
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| But I don’t sleep at night because the trucks won’t let me,
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| Wheels are rollin' thunder in my brain,
|
| The bottle by my side keeps back the nightmares,
|
| 'Til the sound of diesels bring it back again,
|
| And I still can see the flames on Razor Mountain,
|
| Oh I smell the smoke and feel it blur my sight
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| There’s nothing can wipe out my fear of burnin',
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| And that’s why the trucks won’t let me sleep at night, |