That's What I Do
The alarm goes off and I rise up, for a moment foggy from sleep.
I look through the curtain and stare out at the world in front of me.
Where am I ? My mind is a blank , the cob webs still clinging.
Oh yes I remember. I'm Where I'm supposed to be.
Miles away from my home and my family, doing a job not many can do
or would want too.
This is my life day and night, to deliver my loads to the receiver's so that
consumer's will have what they need. That's what I do.
Then it's off to another pick up and another hurry up and wait day.
Because no matter when I get there the freight won't be ready to load.
So I'll be up all day waiting for it. No one seems to care.
Then it's all night long no time to wait. Got to get on down the road.
Montgomery is a long way off and 7 a.m. comes early, just enough time
to fuel up. Both the rig and myself. Grab a thermos of Joe
Then it's back to the road I go. The HOS is a pain the D.O.T. the same
The coops are open and weighing. My weights o.k. and it's off I go.
Daylight is just a memory and the night is long and black.
The c.b. is chattering low. 10 people talking at the same time.
Truck stops are full and there is no place to park so I head out
to find a rest area. Then call home on the land line.
Hello I miss you. Did you take care of the things I asked you too?
Yes I'll be home by Friday, No I haven't forgotten a thing
Yes I know I won't be late. I promise! Yea I love you too!
I hang up and I feel it, the painful sting.
I walk back to the truck, sadness fills me, and it lingers.
My heart hurts until the night closes in on me and I sleep.
The alarm sounds and I arise and I move out onto the road
Montgomery calls, and the diesel in my blood flows deep.
This is my life. What I do to make a living
It's hard and lonely and scary too.
But it's the life I've chosen to live and I know it better than myself
Miles, and miles, everyday. That's what I do.
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