Uranium Road

Twisted wrecks in the burning sands;

Magnesium flares, iron corrodes,

The blacktop burns on Uranium Road.

Mercury climbed higher and higher,

The people ran, breathing in fire;

The rattlesnakes coiled, the condors flew,

A hole in the sky where the sun burned through.

   Sixteen tons, eighteen wheels,

   Halogen lights on chromium steel;

   Cobalt mountains to the desert below,

   Three hundred miles down Uranium Road.

Here's to the men who run that run,

Drive the big rigs, stare down the sun;

Carry the borax pure and refined,

Ice water veins, steel in their eyes.

Carbon arc weld better get you there,

You don't have the parts, you don't have a prayer;

Sunspot surge knocked the radio out,

No living thing four counties about.

   Sixteen tons, eighteen wheels,

   Halogen lights on chromium steel;

   Cobalt mountains to the desert below,

   Three hundred miles down Uranium Road.

There once was a girl in the truckstop lights,

Waitressing tables each Saturday night;

And the diesels roamed in numberless hordes,

You could hear their cry, you could hear their roar.

Now night comes on broken and still,

Phosphorus gleams on the crest of a hill;

One more hour, signpost ahead,

Dashboard lights all flashing red.

   Sixteen tons, eighteen wheels,

   Halogen lights on chromium steel;

   Cobalt mountains to the desert below,

   Three hundred miles down Uranium Road.