(Chris Knight/Sam Tate/Annie Tate)



A hundred cups of coffee, five hundred cigarettes

A thousand miles of highway and I ain't forgot her yet

But I keep on moving, I keep moving down the line

There ain't nothing in my mirror, just a cloud of dust and smoke

But what do you expect when some old trucker's heart gets broke

Yeah, trucker's hearts gets broke



But them big wheels of rubber are gonna rub her off my mind

I'm a highway junkie, I need that old white line



Ten miles out of nashville, I was doing a hundred and one

State boy me over and he said, "Where's the fire, son?"

He said, "Where's the fire son?"

I said "Man, there ain't no fire, I'm just running from a flame

Go on and write your ticket, but I ain't the one to blame"

That county judge tried to rob me blind.



But them big wheels of rubber are gonna rub her off my mind

I'm a highway junkie, I need that old white line



So I rolled on down to Memphis

I had nothing left to lose

I wanted to hear some rock and roll, but all they played was blues

I didn't wanna hear no blues

So I went to call up Elvis and Roger Miller grabbed the phone

He said drive that 18 wheeler, boy, you're the king of the road

Said I was the king of the road



But them big wheels of rubber are gonna rub her off my mind

I'm a highway junkie, I need that old white line



But them big wheels of rubber are gonna rub her off my mind

I'm a highway junkie, I need that old white line