I was pullin’ up a hill that’s known as the Devil’s Crest,
Haulin’ 36 ton on a run called the Nitro Expess
There was nothing but curves runnin from the top on down
G D G
At the bottom of the grade sat a quiet little country town.
Well I was drivin’ off the top when she jarred and the drive shaft broke,
Started pumpin’ up the brakes, saw em go in a big cloud of smoke.
To keep her upright… I knew I had to do my best,
G D G
Against a runaway bomb they called the Nitro Express.
There was 36 ton of bent and made steel
Over 18 tires that smoked and squealed
I had to ride her down I couldn’t jump free
D G D
Or there’d be a big hole where that little town used to be
Well that ol’ trailer leaned each time that I took another curve
My hands started sweatin’ I knew I was losin’ my nerve
And I was cussin’ each rock and every inch of Devil’s Crest
A fightin’ with the wheel of a rig called the Nitro Express
I side swiped a mountain so I’d slow by rubbin’ her side
And when the sparks started flyin’ it looked like the 4th of July
I finally got her stopped but mister I’m gonna confess
That’s the last run I’m makin’ in a rig called the Nitro Express