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 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
When daddyd hang up she was gone Again
Mama was a looker
Lord how she shined
Papa was a goodn
But the jealous kind
Papa loved mama
Mama loved men
Mamas in the graveyard
Papas 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 looking to surprise us
He was doing fine
I heard him cry for mama
Up and own 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
Papas 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 goodn
But the jealous kind
Papa loved mama
Mama loved men
Mamas in the graveyard
Papas in the pen
