King of the Post Roads

Well, his name is Jules. He's 5 foot 01,

but don't let them measure fool anyone. He's climbing round his unit

quick and sly like a spider in a web up in sky. Every strap is

tight, every corner known, that wagon ain't middle, it's he's rolling

Home Mirrors set coffee strong, sunrise glow. Keys turn once

and the diesel rolls. Post a move and miles to burn. Another long night,

no time to learn. He's the king of the post roads,

hear the engine roar. Def truck pulling 51 foot of law