Eighty-Nine Cents in the ash tray
Half empty bottle of Gatorade rolling in the floorboard
That dirty Braves cap on the dash
Dog tags hangin’ from the rear view
Old Skoal can, and cowboy boots and a Go Army Shirt folded in the back
This thing burns gas like crazy, but that’s alright
People got their ways of coping
Oh, and I’ve got mine
I drive your truck
I roll every window down
And I burn up
Every back road in this town
I find a field, I tear it up
Til all the pain’s a cloud of dust
Yeah, sometimes I drive your truck
I leave that radio playing
That same ole country station where ya left it
Yeah, man I crank it up
window
tryin
truck
tough
their
stone
eighty
coping
boots
goodbye
empty
field
rolling
thing
crank
crazy
cowboy
asked
playing
cloud
punch
anyway
every
alright
radio
cents
drive
morning
bottle
dirty
braves
skoal
brother
folded
burns
floorboard
rollin
gatorade
these
grave
hangin
missing
momma
people
prayed
leave
probably
cussed
right
where
country
shirt
shook
sometimes
station
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