The Highway Man

I might just be a lowly driver on the highway man, but I don't owe a single dime to any banking man. I answer to no master, and I beg from nobody, so the way I truly see it, friend, you ought to envy me. Your garage holds a sports car that costs more than a modest home, but it's never felt the freedom of the highways where I roam.You're chained to your boardroom meetings and your portfolios of gold, trading off your quiet nights to keep your stock controlled. Meanwhile, I've got diesel burning through my veins and in my soul, watching white lines stretch ahead to reach my final goal. When I pull this rig back homeward and I shift into low gear, there’s a porch light burning brightly and a love that holds me dear. My little boy comes running with his laughter in the air, and my woman wraps her arms around me standing waiting there. Every single thing I own is paid for and is mine, standing strong and honest underneath the country pine. I might just be a lowly driver on the highway man, but I don't owe a single dime to any banking man. I answer to no master, and I beg from nobody, so the way I truly see it, friend, you ought to envy me. Let the stock market tumble and the corporate towers fall, let the slick-talkin' politicians try to build another wall. They can keep their fancy titles and their debt-financed success, 'cause a free man with a simple heart is truly truly blessed. Yeah, you can keep your penthouse and your sports car in the drive. Just give me this old open road to feel so damn alive. I'm a king without a castle, rollin' down through the western span—just a proud and honest trucker, a true-born highway man.