Parking lot motel
Man stumbles out of his room just just looking like hell
He hits the seat, slams the door and tears out of sight
I wonder where he'll be tonight

But when I'm flying down the road
Through dry field of gold
Sometimes I can almost feel
Like I've left behind the crushing real
Real, real

The sun is at my back
Shadows stretch out black
Blowing like the breeze
As it gusts all through the wheat

That trucker's got a cigarette of ash
In a dotted white line trance
Out in the wilderness of I-40 west
Just a big gulp in a leather vest
And when it's rubber to the ground

Ride that shadow down
Round the bend oh pungent grows the pine
I see mountains on the rise
Rise, rise
Rise
Rise
Uh, uh, uh
Uh, uh, uh

Copyright: WORDS & MUSIC A DIV OF BIG DEAL MUSIC LLC
Writer(s): Alexandra Sauser-Monnig