We keep passin' them wild truckers
And John is at the wheel,
We must have been goin' 90,
When I had a cravin' for a meal.
We keep passin dozens o' billboards,
All colors, sizes, an' Shapes,
Then we pass a guy lookin like Kojack,
Playin' his 8-track tapes.
Daddy keeps lookin' at the road maps,
With a puzzled look in his eye
I think we better stop for gas
Before this junker dies.
We're on our way to California,
With hope down in our hearts.
We may never get there,
If this old junker never starts.
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