OldTroubador's blog post - Makin' a Livin'

Ten speed stick and concrete slabs
Dotted lines and exit ramps
Running the roads and bumping docks
Making a livin’ draggin’ a 53 foot box
Sleeping the day, running the nights
Chasing the false sunrise of those distant city lights
Speakers cranking southern fried rock, playing outlaw country
Allman, Betts, and Skynryrd, Willie, Waylon, and me.
Or tuning in to an all-night station, just to hear them play
Six Days on the Road, and Convoy, and He Stopped Lovin’ Her Today.
And every time he hears it, he still sheds a tear
Whenever they play the ballad about a boy called Teddy Bear.
Thinking about his friends and family and the girls he’s left behind.
Thinking about how things went wrong, they sometimes prey upon his mind.
It’s a hard life but he wouldn’t trade for one in an office and he’s
Dreading the day they call him in and ask him for his keys.
Lakes, rivers, and streams are marked by mist hanging in the air
In the cool of the night he cuts the fog as if it wasn’t there.
Interstates and two lane highways, flying from town to town
Slowing down to pass the darkened houses, then on the other side hammer down.
Then it’s upshift, downshift, lean into that turn
Get over the top, grab a gear, let that diesel burn.
Just a few more hours, one more ramp and he’ll call this workday done.
So kick that horse, drop those reins and let that big gal run.
A crescent moon and stars that shine have lighted up his way
But now the dawn is breaking, the start of a brand new day