| Semi Suite |
| Well you hate those diesels rollin' And those Friday nights out bowlin' When he's off for a twelve hour lay over night You wish you had a dollar For every time he hollered That he's leavin' And he's never comin' back But the curtain-laced billow And his hands on your pillow And his trousers are hangin' on the chair You're lyin' through your pain, babe But you're gonna tell him he's your man And you ain't got the courage to leave He tells you that you're on his mind You're the only one he's ever gonna find It's kind-a special, understands his complicated soul... But the only place a man can breathe And collect his thoughts is Midnight and flyin' away on the road. But you've packed and unpacked So many times you've lost track And the steam heat is drippin' off the walls But when you hear his engines You're lookin' through the window in the kitchen and you know You're always gonna be there when he calls 'Cause he's a truck drivin' man Stoppin' when he can He's a truck drivin' man Stoppin' when he can |