When I pulled out of Basra they all wished me luck. Just like they always did before. With a bulletproof screen on the hood of my truck. And a Bradley on my back door. And I wound her up and shifted her down. And I offered this prayer to my lord. I said “God get me back home to Houston alive. and I won’t drive a truck anymore”. Early in the mornin’ and I’m rollin’ fast. Haulin’ nine thousand gallons of high test gas. Sergeant on the radio hollerin’ at me. Look out up ahead here come a R.P.G.. If I ever get home to Houston alive. Then I won’t drive a truck anymore. I’ve driven the big rigs for all of my life. And my radio handle’s “Train”. Down steep mountain roads on the darkest of nights. I had ice water in my veins. And I come over here ‘cause I just didn’t care. Now I’m older and wiser by far. If I ever get home to Houston alive. Then I won’t drive a truck anymore. Great God A’mighty what was wrong with me. I know the money’s good but buddy can’t you see. You can’t take it with you and that ain’t no lie. I don’t wanna let ‘em get me I’m too young to die. If I ever get home to Houston alive. Then I won’t drive a truck anymore