WAGON HAUL TO SANTA FE - Dark Twang • Heavy 808s • Cold, Clean, Menacing

Rolling out of Gillette with the dawn on my hood, Three plates from Wyoming, steel riding good. Got a wagon on my back, twenty‑two tons of weight, Heading down to Santa Fe, rolling clean, rolling straight. High plains in the mirror, long miles in my chest, Interstate humming low like it knows me best. No chaos on the radio, no voices in the way, Just the road and the diesel and the slow break of day. Wagon haul to Santa Fe, metal singing in the wind, Eight miles to the gallon, letting the long run begin. No fines, no trouble, no ghosts on the line, Just a lone‑wolf driver keeping steady on time. From the hills of Wyoming to the desert below, Every mile on the counter feels like a story I know. Fifty‑six on the needle, engine warm, engine true, A thousand miles of silence with the sky turning blue. Wagon haul to Santa Fe, sunrise burning gold, Steel chains rattling softly like secrets never told. No cowboys, no Russians, no chaos today, Just the hum of the 389 guiding me on my way. And when I hit the depot, dust settling behind, I drop the load easy with a clear, quiet mind. Another run finished, another road paid, One driver, one highway — that’s the life that I’ve made.