A farmer and a teacher, a hooker and a preacher
Riding on a midnight bus bound for Mexico
One was headed for vacation, one for higher education
And two of them were searching for lost souls
That driver never saw the stop sign
And eighteen-wheelers can’t stop on a dime
There are three wooden crosses on the right side of the highway
Why there’s not four of them, Heaven only knows
I guess it’s not what you take when you leave this world bеhind you
It’s what you leave behind you whеn you go
That farmer left a harvest, a home, and eighty acres
The faith and love for growing things in his young son’s heart
And that teacher left her wisdom in the minds of lots of children
And did her best to give ’em all a better start
And that preacher whispered, “Can’t you see the Promised Land?”
As he laid his blood-stained Bible in that hooker’s hand
There are three wooden crosses on the right side of the highway
Why there’s not four of them, Heaven only knows
I guess it’s not what you take when you leave this world behind you
It’s what you leave behind you when you go
That’s the story that our preacher told last Sunday
As he held that blood-stained Bible up for all of us to see
He said, “Bless the farmer, and the teacher, and the preacher
Who gave this Bible to my mama, who read it to me.”
There are three wooden crosses on the right side of the highway
Why there’s not four of them, now I guess we know
I guess it’s not what you take when you leave this world behind you
It’s what you leave behind you when you go
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There are three wooden crosses on the right side of the highway
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