Drivin' my race car is my way of making a livinMy way of puttin' the bread on the table at home
I'm gettin' back about half as much as I'm givinAnd I couldn't make it without a good woman at home
First place could be just a dream but I'm gonna chase it
Finishing out of the top ten is nothing but bad
And a junker won't ever be first I might as well face it
First class equipment is somethin' a man's got to have
You might even call me a twentieth century drifter
Thirty-two weekends I load up the car and I'm gone
And my woman cries with each goodbye kiss that I give her
And she prayes that come Monday morning and I'll be driftin' home
Well my woman sleeps in my arms and I lie here thinkinHalf awake half asleep I run and re-run the race
From dark end till dawn it goes on my half awake dreamin'
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