Loading…
Lyrics
[Verse 1]
White lines drowning under rivers of rain
Wipers slap time to the hum in my brain
Coffee gone cold, cab smells like smoke
Map on the dash curled up like a joke
[Chorus]
I got blacktop in the blood, ghosts in the grill
Hauling dead weight up a long black hill
Storm in the sky, storm in my gut
If the devil wants a ride, he knows where to cut
Right down this road
Right down this rut
[Verse 2]
CB hisses, just static and lies
Jackknife rumors and a sideways sky
Saw a pair of tail-lights vanish in a spin
Like a prayer sucked out where the dark begins
[Chorus]
I got blacktop in the blood, ghosts in the grill
Hauling dead weight up a long black hill
Storm in the sky, storm in my gut
If the devil wants a ride, he knows where to cut
Right down this road
Right down this rut
[Bridge]
Twenty tons swaying on a thin wet line
Every mile marker looks like a sign
Wind keeps leaning, wants me to fold
Whispers my name through the cracks in the bold
[Chorus]
I got blacktop in the blood, ghosts in the grill
Hauling dead weight up a long black hill
Storm in the sky, storm in my gut
If the devil wants a ride, he knows where to cut
Right down this road
Right down this rut
(yeah, right down this rut)
Details
GeneratedFeb 1, 2026
Duration2:58
LanguageEnglish
Style
country, Grimy outlaw country ballad, baritone male vocals. Low-tuned acoustic and twangy electric guitar over a slow, swaying beat; brushed snare and distant toms like rolling thunder. Verses stay hushed and close-mic’d, with creaking pedal steel and subtle organ drone; chorus swells wider with stacked, ragged harmonies and a hanging reverb tail. Final pass strips back to voice and guitar, letting the last line hang in silence.
Credits
Prompt by
Gold_Diggin_Cowboy
Gold_Diggin_CowboyModelAria v5
Prompt
Dark country song about driving a semi truck in a storm.
