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 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'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

(outro)