[Verse]
On the side of the highway, dawn’s breaking light,
A man’s in his coveralls, working through the night.
Wrench in his hand, grease on his brow,
Keeping this country rolling, here and now.
[Verse 2]
Snow on the ground, or the summer heat's burn,
Out there in the open, they stand firm.
Fixing the rusted, the busted, the old,
It ain’t always pretty, but it’s braver than gold.
[Chorus]
Respect the service truck, the hands that don’t shake,
They walk the hard road, and give more than they take.
Fixing up the pieces when the world comes unstuck,
Tip your hat and thank the man driving that truck.
[Verse 3]
They climb under engines, they balance the gears,
Facing danger daily, swallowing fears.
Oil-stained angels, unsung and strong,
They’re the chorus of the highways, singing life’s song.
[Bridge]
For every loaded trailer, for every farmer’s plow,
For every stranded car they’ve lifted somehow.
Their tools are their weapons, their courage their shield,
A battlefield not sung in the stories we yield.
[Chorus]
Respect the service truck, the hands that don’t shake,
They walk the hard road, and give more than they take.
Fixing up the pieces when the world comes unstuck,
Tip your hat and thank the man driving that truck.