Well I've been a trucker
now for twenty years
From the Charleston coast
to the Jersey piers
Sharing the road
with race car nuts
and loggers
Sunday drivers
Scouts on hikes
Hell's Angels
on Harley bikes
I never met a roader
I didn't like
'cept them joggers
One day I'm rolling
down one-o-one
I got eighteen wheels
under fourteen tons
Radio playing a good old
country rocker
The day was surely
a trucker's dream
The sky was sunny
and the air was clean
When up ahead on the road
I seen a skinny
sweaty jogger
Well he's dressed like
they do in baby blue
With shortie shorts
and a headband too
I yelled hey sweetie
I bet that you are
the hit of the men's
room locker
But I'm a-running late
with an overload
So get your Adidas
off of this road
I'm LA bound and I don't
slow down
for dead raccoons
or joggers
Well without breaking
stride or losing poise
He says you and that rig
sure make some noise
Can't talk now I'm racing
against the clocker
But it's just nine miles
to Forkers Leap
and if you ain't afraid
to race that heap
We'll see how that
old rig holds up
against a super jogger
Race I must be
hearing wrong
The boy's been running
in the sun too long
Only place he's
racing to is a doctor
But before I could say
thank you no
The fool yells
ready get set go
and the race is on
We're off and gone
Me and that maniac jogger
Well I could've left
him far behind
but I played with him
like a fish on a line
and stayed about a half
a mile behind that sucker
Then I pushed her up
to forty-five
and he sees me coming
and he starts to fly
I pushed her to sixty
and the shift to high
Finally catched that jogger
and it wasn't easy
Now I'm doing eighty
and I turned to check
and he's staying right
with me neck in neck
His hearts a-thumping
like me engine going
pocka pop power
Then he says
hey I hope you're set
'cause I ain't shifted
into second yet
Then he unwinds
and leaves me behind
Eaten the dust
of a jogger
Then I see him jogging up
into the sky
And he yells hey thanks
for the exercise
I hope that losing
this race was
not too shocking
You see my dad says
Heaven ain't no place
to run and I try to be
an obedient son
So I come down to earth
to do my jogging
Well that's my story
take it or leave it
My trucker buddies
they believe it
So do them race car nuts
and Harley hoggers
I'm still driving
much the same
'cept I don't call
nobody names
And I tip my hat
each time I pass
one of them
good old joggers
And I say hey good buddy
Can I get you something
'Bout a little
Gatorade here
Ah that's alright
I got plenty of time