Fred

I got her letter in an old mail box

I forgot I had at a little truck stop

And I read it once, and then I read it again

I could hardly keep from cryin'

I've been drivin' around the last week or so

With an empty truck, I don't have a load

And I don't care 'cause to tell you the truth

I think I might be dying

And it's trucker speed, benzedrine

Percocets, amphetamines

Black beauties and West Coast turnarounds