|
Papa drove a truck
Nearly all his life
You know it drove mama
Crazy being a trucker's wife
The part she couldn't handle
Was the being alone
I guess she needed more
To hold than just a telephone
Papa called Mama
Each and every night
Just to ask her
How she was
And if us kids were all right
Mama would wait for
That call to come in
When Daddy'd hang up
She was gone again
Mama was a looker
Lord, how she shined
Papa was a good'n
But the jealous kind
Papa loved Mama
Mama loved men
Mama's in the graveyard
Papa's in the pen
Well, it was bound to happen
And one night it did
Papa came home and
It was just us kids
He had a dozen roses
And a bottle of wine
If he was lookin'
To surprise us,
He was doin' fine
I heard him cry for Mama up
And down the hall
Then I heard a bottle break
Against the bedroom wall
That old diesel engine
Made an eerie sound
When Papa fired it up and
Headed into town
Well, the picture in the paper
Showed the scene real well
Papa's rig was buried
In the local motel
The desk clerk said
He saw it all real clear
He never hit the brakes and
He was shifting gears
Mama was a looker
Lord, how she shined
Papa was a good'n
But the jealous kind
Papa loved Mama
Mama loved men
Mama's in the graveyard
Papa's in the pen
|