Verse 1 He sits back in the corner where the neon quits its hum In a cracked red booth with a coffee cup and a thumb hooked through his belt some Old hat low, old eyes high, like he’s read the sky for years Like he’s buried love in Oklahoma and outdrank half his fears Nobody knows where he came from He just sort of showed up there Like smoke that rolls in off the blacktop Or a prayer that learned to wear A pair of boots and a weathered coat With stars caught in the seams Half old west trail dust cowboy Half wizard out of dreams Chorus They call him the Cosmic Truck Stop Prophet Sittin’ where the lost folks roam Drinkin’ coffee like it’s scripture Turnin’ silence into gold He don’t waste a lot of words But when he talks, the whole room hears it Buy the man a beer And that’ll put his wisdom in gear Verse 2 He’s seen rigs burn on winter roads And weddings die by June Seen boys come home with older eyes And girls leave town too soon He’s been a saint, been a fool, been broke, been saved, been wrong Been the kind of man who lost it all And still kept movin’ on He don’t preach like Sunday thunder He don’t talk to fill the air He just waits until the noise burns off And truth comes limpin’ there Then he’ll say some line so plain and sharp It cuts you clean in two Like, “Most folks spend their whole damn life Tryin’ to outrun what they knew” Chorus They call him the Cosmic Truck Stop Prophet Sittin’ where the lost folks roam Drinkin’ coffee like it’s scripture Turnin’ silence into gold He don’t waste a lot of words But when he talks, the whole room hears it Buy the man a beer And that’ll put his wisdom in gear Verse 3 He looks like if a cattle hand Met a mountain spellcaster Like he might know where your soul got bent And why your life got faster Silver in his beard like moonlit wire Dust on every thread Like he once rode drag on judgment day And just kept ridin’ instead The waitress calls him “baby,” laughs And keeps his cup filled black The truckers nod, the drunks lean in When he finally leans back And says, “Son, peace ain’t something you find Like a sign beside the road It’s what you carry in your chest When the world forgets your load” Bridge He ain’t famous Ain’t rich Ain’t carved in any stone But there’s men twice as loud and half as deep Who’d give a lot to own That kind of calm That kind of ache That kind of settled fire The kind that only comes from livin’ through Your own funeral pyre Final Chorus They call him the Cosmic Truck Stop Prophet Guardin’ some invisible throne At a truck stop off the interstate Where broken hearts get home He don’t waste a lot of words But when he talks, it sounds like mercy Buy the man a beer And that’ll put his wisdom in gear Outro So if you’re ever out past nowhere And your spirit’s run half dead Find that booth beneath the neon buzz And hear what the old man said He’ll raise his cup or tip his hat Like he’s known you all your life The Cosmic Truck Stop Prophet Still holdin’ court tonight
