Highway seventy nine

He started driving trucks at twenty one,

Being behind the wheel,

It was such a big thrill,

Now he's lost count of the miles he's done,

The people he's seen, places he's been,

Are now just precious memories.

Two trailers hooked behind,

That Kenworth nine oh nine,

A Mack, Freightliner and Western star,

It doesn't matter what they are,

A Volvo, Scania and a Benz,

That list will never end,

Cause there's all kinds,

On highway seventy nine,

Now Those trucks sure have come a long way,

Night cooler TV fridge and a microwave,

I sure bet The old timers never could,

Imagine 600 horses under the hood,

A flat top tautliner, tankers tippers, fridge vans and stock crates,

Tray trucks, single trailers, be doubles and road trains

There's all kinds of freight,

Both Local and interstate.

He says that it hasn't got the same feel,

Twenty five years behind the wheel,

It's not like back in the day,

Most won't even give a wave,

Now The truckers radio is nearly Dead,

You don't even get told about a cop ahead.