Papa drove a truck nearly all his life You know it drove mama crazy bein a trucker's wife The part she couldn't handle was the bein' alone I guess she needed more to hold than just the 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 But when Daddy'd hang up she was gone again
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Momma 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 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 her he was doin' fine I heard him cry for mama up and down the hall Then I heard the bottle break against the bedroom wall That ol' 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.
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