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Twentieth Century Drifter
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Marty Robbins
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Drivin' my race car is my way of making a livin'
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My way of puttin' the bread on the table at home
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I'm gettin' back about half as much as I'm givin'
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And I couldn't make it without a good woman at home
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First place could be just a dream but I'm gonna chase it
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Finishing out of the top ten is nothing but bad
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And a junker won't ever be first, I might as well face it
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First class equipment is somethin' a man's got to have
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You might even call me a twentieth century drifter
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Thirty two weekends, I load up the car and I'm gone
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And my woman cries with each goodbye kiss that I give her
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And she prays that come Monday morning and I'll be driftin' home
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Well, my woman sleeps in my arms and I lie here thinkin'
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Half awake half asleep, I run and re-run the race
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From dark end till dawn it goes on my half awake dreamin'
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And ever so often I dream of me taking first place
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It's got to be more than a dream dreamin' won't make it
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Or dreaming won't ever put bread on the table at home
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And racing runs deep in my veins and I'll never shake it
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I'm tied to it just like I'm tied to the woman at home
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You might even call me a twentieth century drifter
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