(Verse 1)
Twenty-six wheels grindin’ down a mountain pass with nowhere left to go,
Steel graveyards in the gorge below—ghosts of rigs that couldn’t hold.
Lookin’ down at square-toe boots, stained in mud and ash,
They’ve kicked through fire and twisted iron… every mile could be his last.
The world wants what he’s haulin’, but they won’t drive this road,
They leave it to the hardened ones… to pull that deadly load.
(Chorus)
These worn-out gloves, these workin’ man’s boots,
Walkin’ the edge of the devil’s own roots,
It’s a cold, dark gamble every turn of the key,
But the chaos out here buys his family peace.
He does it for the bloodline, keeps the shadows back,
Draggin’ twenty-six wheels down a frozen track.
(Verse 2)
Hear the wipers slappin’ time, fightin’ through whiteout storms,
Seen good men lose it all just tryin’ to make it home.
Held life in his arms while the night swallowed breath,
Out here every mile’s a wager… runnin’ neck and neck with death.
Diesel-fueled purgatory, bitter, brutal freeze,
But he’ll take the ice and danger—bring that mountain to its knees.
It’s the only way to pay the toll, fear’s a tool he’s learned to use,
Build a life for his own… by a code he won’t lose.
(Chorus)
These worn-out gloves, these workin’ man’s boots,
Walkin’ the edge of the devil’s own roots,
It’s a cold, dark gamble every turn of the key,
But the chaos out here buys his family peace.
He does it for the bloodline, keeps the shadows back,
Draggin’ twenty-six wheels down a frozen track.
(Bridge – stripped down, almost spoken grit)
Ain’t for the glory… and it sure ain’t for the thrill,
It’s for his baby boy… and a safer road ahead.
It’s for his baby girl… sleepin’ warm in her bed,
While her daddy fights the storm with every prayer he’s ever said.
That unbroken chain gets forged out here in the cold,
In the grind… in the wind… in a heart that won’t fold.
(Guitar Solo – heavy, dragging, mechanical pulse)
(Final Chorus – bigger, fuller)
These worn-out gloves, these workin’ man’s boots,
Walkin’ the edge of the devil’s own roots,
It’s a cold, dark gamble every turn of the key,
But the chaos out here buys his family peace.
He does it for the bloodline, keeps the shadows back,
Still draggin’ twenty-six wheels down a frozen track…
(Outro – low, fading)
Yeah… twenty-six wheels…
…ain’t never turnin’ back.
ChrisMurrayCAMrecord
