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Song

Lyrics by: Marty Robbins
# Debut Chart
10 Jan '74 Country

Lyrics

Drivin' a race car is my way of makin' a livin' My way of puttin' the bread on the table at home I'm gettin' back about half as much as I'm givin' And I couldn't make it without a good woman at home First Place could be just a dream, but I'm gonna chase it Finishin' out of the "Top Ten" is nothin' but bad In a "junker", won't ever be first, I might as well face it First Class equipment is somethiing a man's got to have You might even call me a twentieth century drifter Thirty-two week-ends, I load up the car and I'm gone And my woman cries with each "good-bye" kiss that I give her And she prays that come Monday mornin', I'll be driftin' home


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Well, my woman sleeps in my arms and I lie here thinkin' Half awake, half asleep, I run and re-run the race From Dark until dawn, it goes on, my half-awake dreamin' And every so often, I dream that I'm takin' First Place But it's got to be more than a dream - dreamin' won't make it Aw, dreamin' won't ever put bread on the table at home And racin' runs deep in my veins. I'll never shake it I'm tied to it just like I'm tied to that woman at home You might even call me a twentieth century drifter Thirty-two week-ends, I load up the car and I'm gone And my woman cries with each "good-bye" kiss that I give her And she prays that come Monday mornin', I'll be driftin' home

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