They waited there in line

And we remember why we came

And wander 'round backstage
Before you come for my piano
Come along, sing the song

Haul them trusses down and get 'em up them ramps
We just pass the time in the hotel rooms
You're going to wake up in your town
But the band's on the bus
'Cause when it comes to moving me
Now we got Country and Western on the bus
But when that last guitar's been packed away
While the miles roll away
We got time to think of the ones we love
Is the time that we get to play

People you've got the power over what we do
We've got Truckers on the CB
They're the first to come and last to leave
So just make sure you got it all set to go
And that was sweet
And do a show in Chicago or Detroit, I don't know
You know that you can't go wrong
Pack it up and tear it down
Working for that minimum wage
You know, you guys are the champs
And these towns all look the same
We've got to drive all night

Tonight the people were so fine
'Cause when that morning sun comes beating down
And that's a sound they'll never know
But the only time that seems too short
We do so many shows in a row
Or you can pull us through

And we've got Richard Pryor on the video

We've got Rural Scenes and Magazines
But we'll be scheduled to appear
You know that I still want to play

You can sit there and wait
And when they got up on their feet
Now roll them cases out and lift them amps
And they're waiting to go
They'll set it up in another town
R&B, we got Disco in eight tracks and cassettes in stereo
Of slamming doors and folding chairs
They made the show
A thousand miles away from here
But I can hear the sound
Till those lights come up and we hear that crowd