Diesel Cowboy Coming Home

Soft steel-guitar intro, low rumble of a diesel engine in the distance.

The road hums low beneath my wheels,

A song only truckers know how it feels.

The diesel growls like a lonesome tune,

While the stars keep time to a silver moon.

Through Kansas plains and mountain bends,

The road don’t talk—it just never ends.

My radio crackles, my coffee’s gone cold,

And I dream of her arms, the ones I used to hold.

The highway signs flash towns I don’t know,

A thousand miles of wind and snow.

My rig’s my horse, this cab my bed,

And I chase the dawn with a weary head.

Oh, these lonely nights cut deep and wide,

No one but ghosts on the passenger side.

The CB’s quiet, the air’s turned thin,

And I count each mile till I see her again.

The weekend’s close—I can feel it near,

That soft sweet voice I ache to hear.

The scent of her hair, the warmth of her smile,

Worth every mile of this endless trial.

Snow drifts rise on the interstate’s crown,

The wipers beat as the night bears down.

But I ain’t quittin’—I’ll haul till I’m through,

For there’s love at the end of this avenue.

And when that porch light cuts through the dark,

And the diesel dies with a final spark,

She’ll open that door with tears in her eyes—

My weekend, my heaven, my home ’neath the skies.

So here’s to the cowboys of chrome and steel,

Whose hearts still ache but their hands won’t yield.

Through miles of frost, through night’s cold dome—

We’re lonely riders, just heading home.

Soft guitar outro, diesel fades, harmonica echoes the final line.