I-95

I-95
By John Lilly

She’s got a little place just off the Interstate, out by the edge of town,
She spends her time listening for the whine of a semi gearing down;
The woman I love loves a truck driving man and she doesn’t care if I’m alive,
But I love her, she loves him, and he loves I-95.

He’s a union driver in a White Freightliner and he runs the eastern seaboard,
Hauling his load up and down the road is what he’s living for;
Standing on her porch, carrying a torch, is keeping her alive,
But I love her, she loves him, and he loves I-95.

BRIDGE
There’s a gridlock of emotion between him and her and I,
I love her, she loves him, and he loves I-95.

It’s gotta be either him or me and soon she’ll realize
That he’ll never give up driving that truck as long as he’s alive;
Sooner or later that owner operator’s gonna pull up into the drive,
And I’ll have her, she’ll have me, and he’ll have I-95.

Sooner or later that owner operator’s gonna pull up into the drive,
And I’ll have her, she’ll have me, and he’ll have I-95.