(by Matt Cline & Brent Baxter)

I was hauling a load of caskets late one Halloween night
On this lonely stretch of road, wasn’t a soul in sight
So durned hungry, I’d a sold my soul
For one of them little cans of Beanie Weenies or a pecan roll
Then suddenly in my rearview mirror
Like a ghostly apparition a truck stop appeared
Could’a been a half-starved hallucination
But I jerked a U-turn to that fillin’ station

CHORUS:
Whoa, it’s The Night Of The Heat Lamp Burrito
I never should’ve taken that first bite
I’ve been cursed by beans and jalapenos
‘Cuz that tortilla mummy came back to life

The gal at the counter looked to be a few centuries old
And the cigar she was puffing had a hint of brimstone
But all I cared about was that heat lamp light
I was in a trance, mesmerized
There was chicken strips and fried tater wedges
Looked like they’d been there since the devil fell from heaven
But I homed in on them Mexican pies
Scarfed four down in just 3 bites

CHORUS

I jumped in the cab, eastbound and trucking
Then 20 miles later something shook my plumbing
My eyes got big and I felt my load shift
I cinched up on the wheel with a white knuckle grip
My gut jackknifed right then and there
And a jake brake rumbled through the midnight air
I sent a 10-100 CB SOS
Somebody help me, I’m possessed

CHORUS

Breaker 1-9, this here’s Gutwagon. If ya’ll happen to roll up on a spooky-looking Phillips 666 middle of the night, heavy fog… lot a bats… Phantom 409 sittin’ out in the parking lot… word of advice… keep on 'a trucking. You’re better off going hungry. Me, I’m packin’ a lunch… something healthy… got a banana… some cumquats… pomegranate… vanilla yogurt… granola… trail mix… definitely some flax seed and leafy greens… I'm done with the heat lamp… still on the Pepto… I ain't even close to regular... shew...