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Trucker's 900 Miles
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A song for and about a long-haul trucker. Words & music by Steve Suffet. Lead vocal & guitar: Steve Suffet. Back-up vocal: Anne Price. Banjo: Robin Greenstein. Fiddle: Gina Tlamsa.
americana suffet trucker
Artist picture
Old fashioned folksinger in the People's Music tradition.
Born Stephen Lawrence Suffet in 1947, Steve Suffet is best described as an old fashioned folksinger. His repertoire is a mixture of railroad songs, trucker songs, cowboy songs, union songs, old time ballads, blues, ragtime, Gospel, bluegrass, topical-political songs, and whatever else tickles his fancy. He takes songs from whatever sources he wishes and then he sings them his own way, maybe rewriting the lyrics on the spot, flatting a 7th, or changing a major key to a mountain modal.Steve also writes his own songs, sometimes set to the tunes of traditional folk songs, but more often set to tunes he has composed in traditional styles. Photo credit: Jody Kolodzey
Song Info
Genre
Country Americana
Charts
#1,865 today Peak #25
#233 in subgenre Peak #2
Author
Steve Suffet
Rights
Steve Suffet
Uploaded
November 28, 2014
Track Files
MP3
MP3 2.0 MB 128 kbps 2:09
Story behind the song
I took a traditional railroad song called "900 Miles," rewrote the tune, rewrote the lyrics, and arranged it for two voices, guitar, banjo, and fiddle. Just about the only thing left from the original song is the refrain.
Lyrics
Trucker's 900 Miles By Steve Suffet © I'm rolling down the road, Got a twenty-four ton load, This rig is the only thing I own, And if I run her right, I’ll be home tomorrow night, 'Cause I'm nine hundred miles from my home, And I hate to hear that lonesome diesel blow, That long whistling down. I ride this road the most, As I roll from coast to coast, Frisco back to New York town. Every breakdown and delay, Means another lonely day, 'Cause I'm nine hundred miles from my home, And I hate to hear that lonesome diesel blow, That long whistling down. I blew through Chi-ca-go, Just about an hour ago, Toledo is where I'll chow tonight, If I roll the whole night long, I'll hit Jersey just at dawn, 'Cause I'm nine hundred miles from my home, And I hate to hear that lonesome diesel blow, That long whistling down. Gonna climb that Palisade ridge, And roll across that bridge, Drop my load and head straightway for home, A day or two and then, I'll be on the road again, I'll be nine hundred miles from my home, And I hate to hear that lonesome diesel blow, That long whistling down.
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