Got a '68 Chevy that his cousin bought in '71
Traded 98 dollars and his daddy's lucky shotgun Christened the back bumper with a half-empty bottle of beer In the back of his mind, he could hear all the people cheer
He used to sleep in school, hopin' no one would call his name, as the teacher tried to turn 'em out all the same Get up every mornin', do the work you're expected to, and at night, sit and count the crumbs thrown to you He inherited a job at the local distillery Where he had all day to sit and think of what would never be
Somewhere along the line, he'd been deceived Get stoned, read the Bible, an' pretend he still believed Rollin' down the road with his foot to the floor Passin' the same farms and fields as every time before
Nothin' haunts a man like knowin' that he's free to choose So he lets up off the gas when he thinks of all he's got to lose Well, you work all day, live just like a slave Hustlin' for a seat on the slow shuttle to the grave
There's a bottom to every bottle and the only thing that ever lasts-------- is riding shotgun in a Chevy and countin' all the cars you pass