Red Simpson - I'm a Truck Lyrics

Hello, I'm a Truck

You've heard songs about truck drivers
Many times their story's told
How they pulled out of Pittsburg
For six days on the road
'Bout that feather river canyon
And a-climbing' that ol grapevine
That old roadhouse down in Texas
And the girls they left behind
You've heard their tales of daring
And I think that's just fine
But if you could spare a minute
Well I'd like to tell you mine

There'd be no truck driver's
If it wasn't for us trucks
No double-clutching gear
Jammin' 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 drinkin coffee and tellin lies
Prob'ly telling 'em 'bout how he topped that hill 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

If we're on time he takes the credit
'N if we're late I get the blame
Up those hills with shutters open
My stacks a-runnin' flame
My tach' runnin red-line
Sippin' diesel from the tanks
I'll 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 wasn't for us trucks

There'd be no truck driver's
If it wasn't for us trucks
No double-clutching gear
Jammin' 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 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 sittin' over there
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