Out back in the wrecking yard covered by a ton of rust

A veteran of the highway sits and slowly turns to rust

No headlights now to show the way, her windshield cracked and glazed

Does she sit and ponder what she has seen in better days

Trips across the prairie beneath an endless sky

Her engine singing loud and strong as the miles went rushing by

Thoughts of a winter mountain pass choked with ice and snow

She traveled over highways where Angels feared to go

North up to the ice roads, south to sand and sun

East to west then back again, oh how she loved to run

Does she think of the many people who slept there in her bed

Does she remember all the things they done and all the things they said

Now she's back there in the corner as the days slip slowly by

LOOK ---- what's that on her windshield, could a big truck really cry ?