07/02/2021
When I'm alone I often think - of the old truck-stop on the hill
Of a big lot hedged in threes - where we drank and laughed at will
And when the night time brought us to our cabin - hushing our merry din
We would look around and ask - are all the truckers in
--
Well it's been many a year now - and the old truck-stop on the hill
No longer has our care - and the yard is so -- and so
But if I close my eyes, I can’t imagine - how it’s ever been
I seem to hear us ask - are all the truckers in
--
And I wonder when the curtain falls - on that last earthly day
When we say goodbye to all of this - to our pain - and work - and play
When we step across the river - where we have so long been
Will they hear ask a final time - are all the truckers in
