Who Will Listen to Country Music When Trucks Drive Themselves
Changing Tunes: Country Melodies Fade as Trucks Take the Wheel
Lyrics
I had my thumb out in the wind
I was hitchhiking with my thumb out in the wind.
Filled my lungs with tar
I inhaled polluted air, filling my lungs with tar.
The mountain ridges blurred my vision I thought I'd gone too far
The mountain ridges obscured my view, making me feel lost.
Then I saw the lights
I saw lights appearing over the crest of the road.
Come over the crest
Despite the lights, there was no human driver; it was a self-driving truck.
But there was no driver, an auto-rider The big rig blew right past
The big rig passed me without stopping.
I carried on down my road
I continued on my journey down the road.
Until a roadhouse I reached
I arrived at a roadhouse (a roadside bar or inn).
The bartender was built to serve So I pulled up a seat
The bartender, seemingly sturdy, was ready to serve, so I sat down.
One beer please, and bourbon back And my woes I did repeat
I ordered a beer and a bourbon and shared my troubles.
It looked at me, matter of factly And said, Tough luck, buddy.
The bartender responded matter-of-factly, expressing indifference or a lack of sympathy.
Who will listen to country music when trucks drive themselves? Who will tie the long horns up on the grill?
The lyrics pose a question about the future: Who will appreciate country music when trucks can drive themselves? Reference to long horns on the grill implies traditional trucker culture.
The world sure is changing fast and some say for the best
A acknowledgment that the world is changing rapidly, and some believe it's for the better.
But who will listen to country music when trucks drive themselves?
Reiteration of the question about the fate of country music in the era of self-driving trucks.
I squared away every drop of gas That I could ever find
I ensured I had enough fuel for my journey.
I know it's time to put it behind me Or change my mind
Contemplation on the need to either move forward or change my perspective.
Oh, but up on the front of my ride-on mower I nailed a Peterbilt badge
I attached a truck badge to my ride-on mower, symbolizing a connection to trucking culture.
One last ride, my beer beside me
Preparing for one last ride, with a beer by my side and a radio on the mower's dashboard.
And radio strapped to the dash
Repetition of the question about the future of country music.
Who will listen to country music when trucks drive themselves? Who will tie the long horns up on the grill?
Restatement of the question, emphasizing the changing world and the impact on country music.
The world sure is changing fast and some say for the best
Reflection on the fast-paced changes in the world, with a hint of skepticism about whether they are truly for the best.
But who will listen to country music when trucks drive themselves?
Final repetition of the question, highlighting the uncertainty about the future of country music in the context of self-driving trucks.
Who will listen to country music when trucks drive themselves? Who will tie the long horns up on the grill?
Reiteration of the question about the fate of country music, emphasizing the iconic image of long horns on truck grills.
The world sure is changing fast and some say for the best
Reflection on the rapid changes in the world, acknowledging differing opinions on whether they are positive.
But who will listen to country music when trucks drive themselves?
Final repetition of the central question, emphasizing the potential impact of self-driving trucks on the appreciation of country music.
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