My life so far has been a wondrous thing, with the usual ups and downs.
I’ve visited many places in a couple of countries, and I like the little towns.
I've seen a lot of weather, from rain to murderous winds.
But I've seen a lot of beauty, and a couple of different kinds.
I traveled through the mountains, across the greatest plains.
I've seen many different roads, some I'd like to see again.
In the old days out there, we were proud and stopped to lend a hand.
Everyone you passed waived or beeped, like the air meets the sand.
The first time in the mountains, I was in wonder of the colour of the water.
Turquoise and crystal clear and cool with lots of fish; and an occasional little otter.
The plains went on the first time accross, for what seemed to take forever.
The woodlands and the lakes, so pure and full, something I didn't want to sever.
But every time I pull out on the blacktop, going off to somewhere.
I think of all the people out here, just looking for their share.
Some went broke and some got rich, and others just fell apart.
My reason for leaving was a problem with my heart.
But my belief has helped me, as I never did give up the fight.
I get a little stronger now, each and every night.
But I still hear the silence of being on the road.
Going off to somewhere, taking food or something, every one an important load.
We dedicate our lives out here, to each and every one.
We try to keep our schedule, might have milk on board for someone’s son.
I still hear the sound of the diesel, tires humming on the open road.
Always going off to somewhere, with someone on his or her mind.
We supply the people of the earth, nothing moves without a truck.
I wish each and everyone who becomes a trucker, the very best of luck.
We are not that lonely you know; we are helping fill the stores.
We even take the weapons to the ships, so that others can go off to the wars.
So when you see a truck go by, give a little wave.
Cause he might have something in the back, so that someone’s life can be saved.
Artirving 12/09/2000