Papa drove a truck nearly all his life You know it drove mama crazy being a truckers wife The part she couldn't handle was the bein alone I she needed more to hold to than just a telephone Papa called mama each and every night Just to ask how she was and if his kids were alright Mama would wait for that call to come in But when daddy'd hang up she was gone again Mama was a looker Lord, how she shined Papa was a good for nothin 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 to surprise us he was doing 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 breaks when he was shiftin gears Mama was a looker Lord how she shined Papa was a good for nothing jealous kind Papa loved mama Mama loved men Mama's in the graveyard Papa's in the pen