Highway Junkie

(chris knight/sam tate/annie tate)

A hundred cups of coffee, five hundred cigarettes

A thousand miles of highway and I aint forgot her yet

But I keep on moving, I keep moving down the line

There aint nothing in my mirror, just a cloud of dust and smoke

But what do you expect when some old truckers heart gets broke

Yeah, truckers hearts gets broke

But them big wheels of rubber are gonna rub her off my mind

Im a highway junkie, I need that old white line

Ten miles out of nashville, I was doing a hundred and one

State boy me over and he said, wheres the fire, son?

He said, wheres the fire son?

I said man, there aint no fire, Im just running from a flame

Go on and write your ticket, but I aint the one to blame

But them big wheels of rubber are gonna rub her off my mind

Im a highway junkie, I need that old white line

So I rolled on down to memphis

I had nothing left to lose

I wanted to hear some rock and roll, but all they played was blues

I didnt wanna hear no blues

So I went to call up elvis and roger miller grabbed the phone

He said drive that 18 wheeler, boy, youre the king of the road

Said I was the king of the road

But them big wheels of rubber are gonna rub her off my mind

Im a highway junkie, I need that old white line

But them big wheels of rubber are gonna rub her off my mind

Im a highway junkie, I need that old white line