---

all alone, lifeless eyes, in a cluster of trees

peaceful looking, just the same

there are days when I sit and ponder

and other times, when I can't recall her name

she was a drifter, a real knock out

and an actress, she claimed

picked her up on a Sunday morning

by the end of the day, the side of the road

would be her resting place.

For the better part of forty two years

This lonely way I roam

poppa taught me the tricks of the trade

keep on movin' and don't let 'em run

explain to them, they ain't ever going home.

I am the king of all these highways

Or a devil in disguise

I am a master, master of nothing

No soul behind these eyes

O' drifter, c'mon girl, let me give you a ride

In this sun-burnt orange Camaro

You better hold on for your life

she had a notebook, a little diary, beat up cover and all

I said to her, "you better buckle up baby"

give it here, I'll write your last words

and tell em all the last thing you heard.

I slid the pen out of her hair

It fell about her face

and I thought, just for one moment

she doesn't have to leave this place

But like before, she slipped right from my taste.

I am the king of all these highways

Or a devil in disguise

I am a master, master of nothing

No soul behind these eyes

O' drifter, c'mon girl, let me give you a ride

In this sun-burnt orange Camaro

You better hold on for your life