Drive by Truckers Act II from "Southern Rock Opera" Act II Act II opens; present day, in some alternate universe. Our hero is now fronting his ultimate dream band and they are about to take the stage. All of his trials and tribulations have just made him stronger. It's all there. All the shit he went threw is now in his music. He ain't necessarily happy, but at least he ain't dead. (or a walking zombie answering to some dip shit more concerned with your tie and haircut than your soul. George Wallace sold his soul to be the Governor of Alabama. Our hero might have sold off a little of his too. Sometimes shit happens. He has stared down the mythical past. His stage show conjures up the southern rock glory days. They're telling stories of a forgotten south. Stories, no one else was bothering to tell. Stories that own up to the terrible while telling of the beautiful. Rock, that doesn't bend down and kiss any bodies' ass. But, maybe our hero is a little too well connected. He's so caught up in it that he too is strapped into that seat. Hurtling threw space at three hundred miles an hour when everything just goes quiet. Only the sound of the wind; rustling over the wings and your own heartbeat. We're all just one heartbeat away from being sucked into that swamp, and we're all going to be there sooner or later. Maybe what's important is what we do while we're here. What's important is to stand tall, turn your three guitars up real loud, and do what you do. What our hero wants to do tonight is ROCK!