[Pedal Steel Solo] That steel line snaps loose like a county bus running late One note in the rafters of a dead gas stop Pines slip by in the mirror, black trunks, wet gravel While the taillights up ahead turn the shoulder to a red zip [Chorus] Breaker one-nine, got a cop car parked by the fuel pumps? (Hey now!) Coffee in a lid? (Burnt.) Grease on my sleeve? (Yep.) AM radio crackle? (Still talking!) Breaker one-nine, got a clean lane past the taqueria? (Copy!) Scale house dark? (Good.) Paper bag steaming? (Grab it!) Salsa on my thumb? (Run it!) Breaker one-nine, got a four-wheeler camped by the tire stacks? (There it is.) Vending machine busted? (Of course.) Mud on my boots? (All week.) Same road, same route? (You know it!) Breaker one-nine, got the westbound split on the blacktop? (Go on!) Cab light dim? (Low.) Paper cup gone lukewarm? (Already.) Still out here? (Still out here!) Breaker one-nine? (Copy that!) Same road, same route? (Same road, same groove!) Rigs cut sideways through the dark at 2:13 Past the grain bins, yard lamps blinking off one by one Chain-link, porch bulbs, a pallet stack leaning in the ditch Flatbed shadows dragging under the marker lights I can hear the motor jaw back Through the static, through the dash, through the chrome Rigs cut sideways through the dark at 2:13 And somehow that feels like home [Guitar solo] [Hook] Rigs cut sideways — through the taqueria lot Map light humming, receipts stuffed in the visor Foil-wrapped tacos, hot sauce dripping Still rolling, still rolling past the stop [Guitar solo] [Bridge] Hey, Ma, it's me. I'm parked off 71 for a minute, waiting on this line to move. Signal keeps dropping in and out, so if you called, I probably missed you. I'm by the taqueria, dome light off, watching day cabs ease up to the curb. I skipped supper if you were wondering. I'll eat when the lane opens. Phone's dangling in the cup holder by the cord. One bar, then none. I'm gonna pull when this white line clears and the guy in the tan cap quits inching his trailer like he owns the county. Don't worry. I'll ring back when I can get a bar and a coffee that hasn't been sitting since lunch. [Guitar solo] [Hook] Rigs cut sideways, then they level out Peterbilt nose and a Kenworth lean Mud on the running board, boots packed with clay One more load, then I'm back through the screen [Guitar solo] [Hook] Rigs cut sideways through the taqueria lot Breaker one-nine, got the lane and the load Diesel in the throat of this long blue hour Keep it moving, let the highway hold
