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Well, he's following the broken lines |
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Living on borrowed time |
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Motel rooms and broken hearts all left behind |
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You swear he couldn't close his eyes |
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As he shifts into overdrive |
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He's been up and down this road so many times |
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The man of his own |
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And searching just keeps him proving |
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That only the road |
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Can tame the rebel in his soul |
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It's the rhythm of the highway |
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As he rolls on down |
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And city lights as they fade from sight |
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Drives the man behind the driving wheels |
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Like a cowboy in a rodeo |
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Riding hard but never letting go |
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You'll be wandering through the twilight of his life |
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Waylon Jennings on the radio |
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Country music and engines roar |
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Like a shooting star across a desert sky |
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And he's got a home |
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But it's out on the blue horizon |
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Heaven only knows |
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There's still a rebel in his soul |
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It's the rhythm of the highway |
|
As he rolls on down |
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And city lights as they fade from sight |
|
Drives the man behind the driving wheels |
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And chasing southern lights in the distant sky |
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And open plains with the mountains high |
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Drives the man behind the driving wheels |
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Well, he's thought about settling down |
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A little diner on the edge of town |
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But in this world of push and shove |
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He's still got freedom in his blood |
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It's the rhythm of the highway |
|
As he rolls on down |
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And city lights as they fade from sight |
|
Drives the man behind the driving wheels |
