Broken White Line

Peter McCann

Hey bartender, I've got a story to tell
There's nobody else here and so what the hell
I'll tell you of Billy, a truck-drivin' man
He went to Heaven with the wheel in his hand

Turn off the jukebox and buy me a beer
Drink to your future and it will appear
I'll drink to Billy with mud in your eye
He's watchin' that broken white line in the sky

In a blizzard in Utah with a big overload
Our new eighteen-wheeler got blown off the road
Two broken shoulders and a crack in my head
But I was still livin' and Billy was dead

Turn off the jukebox and buy me a beer
Drink to your future and it will appear
I'll drink to Billy with mud in your eye
He's watchin' that broken white line in the sky

Well, I missed ol' Billy 'til Saturday night
He appeared in a dream and said "Heaven's alright
The angels run truck stops where everything's free
Drivin' twenty-four hours means nothin' to me
The freeway's restricted, no buses or cars
And the broken white line here is painted with stars"

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