My granddaddy was a trucker, took his fair share of uppers

Chasing white lines for a dollar, but he never let us down

Now I'm a different breed of drifter, I do my kind of drifting

With a guitar and a bottle and I play it good and loud

I cut tail and run too often to a bar down in austin

If I forget the words, you can blame it on the crown.

But you can bet I know

About a lonesome road

You can bet I know

About a heavy load

They call it playing for a living, but the truth is, it isn't

As easy as a-writin' a song

Tell my babies I love 'em

But their daddy ain't never coming home.

Well, I still remember hearing the roaring of the engine

Rolling in the drive after one long run

And he worked himself to death, but on his death bed

He looked at me and said, "the job ain't done"

And I've seen all I can see, just a guitar and me

Chasing every honky-tonk and the setting sun.

But you can bet I know

About a lonesome road

You can bet I know

About a heavy load

They call it playing for a living, but the truth is, it isn't

As easy as a-writin' a song

Tell my babies I love 'em

But their daddy ain't never coming home.

You can bet I know

About a lonesome road

You can bet I know

About a heavy load

They call it playing for a living, but the truth is, it isn't

As easy as a-writin' a song

Tell my babies I love 'em

But their daddy ain't never coming home.

Tell my babies I love 'em

But their daddy ain't never coming home

Ain't never coming home.