I wonder what they're doing
as I barrel down the road,
way too far
away from home
to help them with their load.
Do they know just how I talk to them
past each and every mile?
Saying
things within my heart
(most often with a smile).
Yet, worry can invade my thoughts
like a sudden winter's snow.
I
roar on through the starry night
and ask myself, "Do they know..."
"Just how much I love them
and miss them 'cause they're there?"
While I'm
out here, so far away
that they don't e'en know where....
They ride here with me in my heart,
through each and every town;
So
close that I can touch them
just beyond the diesel's sound.
"God, keep them safe and happy,"
becomes my constant prayer.
Because
the cold, hard truth is
I really can't be there.
In New York someone needs a sink,
in L.A. they want it all, next
day,
somewhere in Maine they'd like a kite
and in Chicago, toys for play.
These "needs" become my reason
to cruise these long old roads,
hopping
'bout from place to place,
to haul all sorts of loads.
I wonder what they're doing
as I pass from state to state,
trapped
here in this lonely cab
by someone's load of freight.
Can they hear my heart talk?
Do they maybe feel my soul,
reaching
out to touch theirs
as down the road I roll?
Next time you lay deep within
your family's sweet embrace,
enjoying
all your countless things,
think of me, here in my "place."
(I wonder what they're doing
as I barrel down the road
way too
far away from home
to help them with their load...).
