(matraca berg/tim krekel)
Im rollin out of bakersfield
My own private hell on wheels
But this time Im gone for good
And Ive never gone this far before
Beyond the slammin of the back screen door
But you never loved me like you should
Chorus:
And there aint no tellin what Ill find
But I might as well move down the line
Theres no comfort here in your zip code
Id rather break down on the highway
With no one to share my load
And cry on the shoulder of the road
It makes me feel a little low
Steel guitar on the radio
And its kinda scary the way those truckers fly
So this is how leaving feels
Drinking coffee and making deals with the one above
To get me through the night
(repeat chorus twice)