I drive your truck Every back road in this town I find a field, I tear it up I roll every window down and I burn up Till all the pain’s a cloud of dust Yeah, sometimes I drive your truck Eighty-nine cents in the ash tray Half empty bottle of Gatorade

You want more? You'll get it Determined, ferocious Grit down and bite the bullet Dare to unbind Smash and redefine I understand your every fear Your every pain your every tear With every struggle you conquer