Twentieth Century Drifter

Drivin' my race car is my way of making a livin'

My way of puttin' the bread on the table at home

I'm gettin' back about half as much as I'm givin'

And I couldn't make it without a good woman at home

First place could be just a dream but I'm gonna chase it

Finishing out of the top ten is nothing but bad

And a junker won't ever be first, I might as well face it

First class equipment is somethin' a man's got to have

You might even call me a twentieth century drifter

Thirty two weekends, I load up the car and I'm gone

And my woman cries with each goodbye kiss that I give her

And she prays that come Monday morning and I'll be driftin' home

Well, my woman sleeps in my arms and I lie here thinkin'

Half awake half asleep, I run and re-run the race

From dark end till dawn it goes on my half awake dreamin'

And ever so often I dream of me taking first place

It's got to be more than a dream dreamin' won't make it

Or dreaming won't ever put bread on the table at home

And racing runs deep in my veins and I'll never shake it

I'm tied to it just like I'm tied to the woman at home

You might even call me a twentieth century drifter