Hello, I'm A Truck

Hello I'm a truck
You've heard songs about truck drivers many times their stories told
How they pulled out of Pittsburg for six days on the road
Bout the Feather River Canyon and climbin' the old grapevine
That old roadhouse down in Texas and the girls they've left behind
You've heard their tales of daring and I think that's just fine
But if you can spare a minute well I'd like to tell you mine
There'd be no truck drivers if it wasn't for us trucks
No double clutching gear jaming coffee drinking nuts
They'll drive their way to glory and they have all the luck
There'd be no truck drivers if it wasn't for us trucks

Well there he sits in that cafe drinking coffee and telling lies
Prob'ly telling 'em how to talk that hill ten miles back
How telling 'em how he missed a
gear and that Volkswagen full of hippies
Passed us like I was sitting up on
jacks or how we took that curve over on 66
Han't-a been for me hanging on the
shoulder we'd both wound up in the ditch
If we're on time he takes the credit if we're late I get the blame
Up those hills with shutters open my stacks are running flame
My stack a running red light sucking diesel from the tanks
I take him south and bring him back without a word of thanks
So now you've heard my story and I guess it's my tough luck
There'd be no truck drivers if it wadn't for us trucks
There'd be no truck drivers if it wadn't for us trucks
No double clutching gear jaming coffee drinking nuts
They'll drive their way to glory and they have all the luck
There'd be no truck drivers if it wasn't for us trucks

Look at him sipping coffee and flirtin' with that waitress
And where do you think he left me
that's right next to cattle truck (mooo)
Why couldn't we have put me next to
that little pink mack sittin' over there
Gosh she's got pretty mud flaps and
talk about stracked they're both chromed
Well he'll be coming out in a minute and he'll get that bar
And he'll go around and beat on my tires
You know for two pints of diesel I'd have a flat on the inside dual
Ha that fixed him I never did like the way he drives anyhow
Thainks he's God's gift to waitresses he never gives 'em a tip
Well I know what he's gonna do now he's gonna take out
The tape cartridge of Back Owens and play it again
I don't know why he don't get a Merle Haggard tape



Credits
Writer(s): R. Stanton
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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