Well, Big John Henry Rucker, he was a greasy motor truckerAnd he drove them big old diesels to L.A.And every time he'd leave Mobile, his darling wife CamilleShe would kiss him in his driveway and she'd sayShe'd sayDon't go sleep on the road, babyDon't go to sleep on the roadLord protect meTake what it takes to keep you awakeOh, but don't go to sleep on the roadThen Camille started singing country music for a flingWell, you know, a girl can't stay too long aloneFirst for friends and then in barsThen she soon became a starAnd sometimes you'd hear her record as he droveSingingDon't go to sleep on the road, babyDon't go to sleep on the roadTears in his eyesTake what it takes to keep you awakeOh, but don't go to sleep on the roadPardonYes, and her record started moving up the chartsAnd became number oneAnd she got Entertainer of the YearAnd she got her hair doneAnd got a boob jobAnd got an affair with her bass playerAnd he got hemorrhoidsHe was driving hell for leatherThrough the California weatherWhen that California sky began to rainAnd that hill was wet and steepLord, he sure could use some sleepBut his darling's words kept ringing through his brainThat eastbound rig was hummingLord, he'd never seen it comingAnd he woke up staring at the skyIn the wreck and in the rainWith the radio still playingAnd the last words that he heard before he diedWas Camille still singingDon't go to sleep on the road, babyDon't go to sleep on the roadTears in his eyesTake what it takes to keep you awakeDon't go to sleep on the roadYes, he went to sleep on the road