Truckers Are the Blood

Don't know if I believe in God but sometimes I pray
 Because the way I was raised keeps me afraid
 Oh, a scientist who has to have his way
 I subsist on a steady diet of shame
 I hope I can forgive me
 For having the nerve to exist
 I hope someone can help me
 Make some sense of this
 I work a 10 hour grave
 From nine to seven
 And I can't fall asleep
 Until 11 past 11
 There's no drug that I can take
 That will keep me from being awake
 Past my, past my bedtime
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 Truckers are the blood in the veins of the body of America
 States are the arms and the legs and the brains and the eyes
 There's a disease, spreading from organ to organ
 And you are the white blood cell that fixes the problem
 You don't know your own power
 You don't know what you're worth
 You don't recognize your valor
 And until you do, nothing you do will matter