I'm a Truck Songtext
von Red Simpson
I'm a Truck Songtext
Hello, I′m a Truck
G
You've heard songs about truck drivers
Em
many times their story′s told
A
How they pulled out of Pittsburg
D
for six days on the road
G
'Bout that feather river canyon
Em
and a-climbing' that ol grapevine A
That old roadhouse down in Texas
D
and the girls they left behind
G
You′ve heard their tales of daring
Em
and I think that′s just fine
C
but if you could spare a minute
D G
well I'd like to tell you mine
Chorus:
G C G
There′d be no truck driver's if it wasn′t
for us trucks
D G
no double-clutching gear jammin' coffee
drinking nuts
C G
they′ll drive their way to glory and they
have all the luck
C
there'd be no truck drivers if it wasn't
D G
for us trucks
Em
Spoken:
Well there he sits in that cafe drinkin coffee and tellin lies
Prob′ly telling ′em 'bout that hill we topped ten miles back
Otta tell′em how he missed a gear and that Volkswagon bus full of
Hippies passed us like I was sittin' up on jacks
Or how we took that curve over on 66
Hadn′y been for me hangin on the shoulder
We'd a both wound up in the ditch
G
If we′re on time he takes the credit
Em
'n if we're late I get the blame
A
Up those hills with shutters open
D
My stacks a-runnin′ flame
G
My tach′ runnin red-line
Em
sippin' diesel from the tanks
A
I′ll take him south and bring him back
D
without a word of thanks
G Em
Well now you've heard my story and I guess
it′s my tough luck
C D
There'd be no truck drivers if it wasn′t
G
for us trucks
Chorus:
Em
Spoken:
Look at him sippin' coffee and flirting with that waitress
And where do you think he left me?
That's right, next to a cattle truck (moo)
Why couldn′t he have put me over there next to that little pink Mack?
Gosh she′s got pretty mud-flaps
And talk about stacked, 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! Boy that′d fix him
I never did like the way he drives anyhow
Thinks he's God's gift of waitresses
He never gives ′em a tip
Well I know what he′s going to do now
Take out that tape cartidge of Buck Owens and play it again
I don't know why he don′t get a Merle Haggard tape...
G
You've heard songs about truck drivers
Em
many times their story′s told
A
How they pulled out of Pittsburg
D
for six days on the road
G
'Bout that feather river canyon
Em
and a-climbing' that ol grapevine A
That old roadhouse down in Texas
D
and the girls they left behind
G
You′ve heard their tales of daring
Em
and I think that′s just fine
C
but if you could spare a minute
D G
well I'd like to tell you mine
Chorus:
G C G
There′d be no truck driver's if it wasn′t
for us trucks
D G
no double-clutching gear jammin' coffee
drinking nuts
C G
they′ll drive their way to glory and they
have all the luck
C
there'd be no truck drivers if it wasn't
D G
for us trucks
Em
Spoken:
Well there he sits in that cafe drinkin coffee and tellin lies
Prob′ly telling ′em 'bout that hill we topped ten miles back
Otta tell′em how he missed a gear and that Volkswagon bus full of
Hippies passed us like I was sittin' up on jacks
Or how we took that curve over on 66
Hadn′y been for me hangin on the shoulder
We'd a both wound up in the ditch
G
If we′re on time he takes the credit
Em
'n if we're late I get the blame
A
Up those hills with shutters open
D
My stacks a-runnin′ flame
G
My tach′ runnin red-line
Em
sippin' diesel from the tanks
A
I′ll take him south and bring him back
D
without a word of thanks
G Em
Well now you've heard my story and I guess
it′s my tough luck
C D
There'd be no truck drivers if it wasn′t
G
for us trucks
Chorus:
Em
Spoken:
Look at him sippin' coffee and flirting with that waitress
And where do you think he left me?
That's right, next to a cattle truck (moo)
Why couldn′t he have put me over there next to that little pink Mack?
Gosh she′s got pretty mud-flaps
And talk about stacked, 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! Boy that′d fix him
I never did like the way he drives anyhow
Thinks he's God's gift of waitresses
He never gives ′em a tip
Well I know what he′s going to do now
Take out that tape cartidge of Buck Owens and play it again
I don't know why he don′t get a Merle Haggard tape...
Writer(s): Bob Stanton Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com