Well you hate those diesels rollin´
And those Friday nights out bowlin´
When he´s off for a twelve hour lay over night

You wish you had a dollar
For every time he hollered
That he´s leavin´
And he´s never comin´ back

But the curtain-laced billow
And his hands on your pillow
And his trousers are hangin´ on the chair

You´re lyin´ through your pain, babe
But you´re gonna tell him he´s your man
And you ain´t got the courage to leave

He tells you that you´re on his mind
You´re the only one he´s ever gonna find
It´s kind-a special, understands his complicated soul...

But the only place a man can breathe
And collect his thoughts is
Midnight and flyin´ away on the road.

But you´ve packed and unpacked
So many times you´ve lost track
And the steam heat is drippin´ off the walls

But when you hear his engines
You´re lookin´ through the window in the kitchen and you know
You´re always gonna be there when he calls

´Cause he´s a truck drivin´ man
Stoppin´ when he can
He´s a truck drivin´ man
Stoppin´ when he can