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Hello, I'm a truck
You've heard songs about truck drivers many times, their stories told
How they pulled out of Pittsburgh for six days on the road
'Bout that Feather River Canyon and climbin' that old grapevine
That old roadhouse down in Texas and the girls they've left behind
You've heard their tales of daring, but 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-jamming, coffee-drinking nuts
They 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 café drinking coffee and telling lies
Probably telling 'bout that hill we talked 'bout ten miles back
Or telling 'em how he missed a gear and that Volkswagen bus full of hippies
Passed us like I was sitting up on jacks or how he missed that curve over on 66
Hadn't 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 tackle running red light and sucking diesel from the tanks
Well, I've taken him south, and I'll bring him back without a word of thanks
Well, 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 drivers if it wasn't for us trucks
No double-clutching, gear-jamming, coffee-drinking nuts
They 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 a cattle truck
Why couldn't he put me over 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
Huh, boy, that'd fix him
I never did like the way he drives anyhow
Thinks he's God's gift to waitresses, he never gives 'em a tip
Well, I know what he's gonna do now
Take out the tape cartridge of Buck Owens and play it again
I don't know why he don't get a Merle Haggard tape