Truckers Are The Blood

Don't know if I believe in God

But sometimes I pray

Because the way I was raised

Keeps me afraid

A scientist that has to have his way

I subsist of a steady diet of shame

I hope I can forgive me

For having the nerve to exist

I hope someone can help me

Make some sense of this

I work a ten hour grave

From nine to seven

And I can't fall asleep

Until eleven past eleven

There's no drug that I can take

That will keep me from being awake

Past my, past my bedtime

Truckers are the blood in the veins of the body of America

States are the arms and the legs and the brains and the eyes

There's a disease spreading from organ to organ

And you are the white blood cell that fixes the problem

You don't know your own power

You don't know what you're worth

You don't recognize your valor

And until you do, nothing you do will matter