| I leaned against the bullbar, and gave the lights a rub
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| Next week another driver, will guide you through the scrub
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| My final run just ended, way down I feel the blow
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| Trucks and tarps and trailers, the only life I know
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| Next week I’ll get the pension, but that wont compensate
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| That feeling of contentent, when the trucks all congregate
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| Oh I’ll miss the miles of freedom, and all the transport crew
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| Trucks and tarps and trailers, bring old memories new
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| The road your tyres rejected, I curse to let off steam
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| Now suddenly looks a highway, oh they do in truckies dreams
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| And I’ll miss the roadside breather, truckies meal and smoke
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| Good old outback welcomes, from friendly station folk.
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| Instrumental
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| Between bullbar and bogeys, their power pulses through
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| From a Cummins diesel motor, black smoke fades to blue
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| That big old spacious cabin, and dials that told me most
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| Trucks and tarps and trailers, haunt me like a ghost
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| Reflecting on those long runs, out near sundowns door
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| Becomes for me a milestone, for I know there’ll be no more
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| But I’ll find it hard adjustin', old habits hard to shake
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| Trucks and tarps and trailers, for our reputations sake
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| Instrumental
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| Yeah shes all yours now young feller, shake hands and wish you luck
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| Theres trucks and trailers equal, but none surpass this truck
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| And you’ll learn her moods and fancies, hauling out back freight
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| Today I’ve learned the feeling, what it’s like to lose a mate |