Ribbons of black we follow, over hills and valleys so fast.
The interstate makes it easy but not so in the past.
Small little crosses along the way to mark the place they stayed.
Road kill every where, on the road they should not have played.
Four lanes, six lanes, eight or more, there are never enough.
Make room for all the trucks rolling in line big and tough.
Road crews slow us down when our taxes paid go to work.
You never know what's up ahead, smokey found a place to lurk.
When you have a heavy load,
trips are best on the open road!