The year is two thousand and eighty
And hardly a highway remains.
Gone are the days of the diesel
And songs about wrecks in the rain.
The Macs and MacLeans have all rusted away.
The Harvesters got in the sand.
And in a deserted truck stop sits Tennessee Thompson,
The world's last truck drivin' man.
He lit up the world's last Lucky
N' got his last cup of coffee refilled.
Then he stared at the sky for one final high
Took the world's lat little wite pill.
He said "World, you are losin' your truckers,
And you suckers do not give a damn.
You're freightin' in space,
And there just ain't no place
For a hard ridin' truck drivin' man."
The world's last truck drivin' man...
His left arm is losin' its tan.
The rest all went broke or just went up in smoke.
He's the world's last truck drivin' man.
Then he sat there and drank to old mem'ries
And Doreen sat there dryin' his tears.
Doreen, the world's last truck stop waitress,
Weary and worn with the years.
So he put his last dime in the world's last juke box
For the lasy he'd loved for so long,
And there in that deserted truck stop they danced
To the world's last truck drivin' song.
Then he climbed up inside his ol' semi,
And Doreen she crawled up at his side.
He shifted it down, and the diesel's sad sound
Said this is your last homeward ride.
So he whispered "Ten-four" to her and the Lord
As the microphone fell from his hand.
And he came to the exit marked "Tennessee Thompson",
The world's last truck drivin' man.
He was high ballin' straight
Through them bright pearly gates
When behind in the dust of his rig
Come the wailin' siren of ol' Smokey McKenzie,
The world's last interstate pig.
Hear 'em roar, see 'em fly
Past the clouds through the sky
On that highway that don't have an end.
But you know that's heaven for Tennessee Thompson,
The world's last truck drivin' man -- and Doreen.
The world's last truck drivin' man.