The Cab is in shambles, the bearings are shot, the tires are more than well worn.
The trailers are buckled, the skid plates are bent, all the tops are discolored and torn.
There are no dogs and chains, just a bag of old ropes, all knotted too short and too frayed.
And it looks like the outfit has never been washed since the day when the gear was first made.
The Cab is in shambles, the bearings are shot, the tires are more than well worn.
There are four broken side lights above the cab.
There's a broken toolbox, the mudflaps are gone from the rear.
The floorboards are missing, the U-bolts are loose, not at all what you'd call first class gear.
From the mud and the dust, inches deep on the wheels, I can see hard work written thereon.
One look underneath at that oil splattered sun.
And I know every oil seal has...
...has gone.
How many hundreds of tons has it hauled?
And how many roads does it know?
This old rick one time was some truck jockey's joy up, and that was a long time ago.
Yes, it lies here a wreck, and they rob it for spares.
The truck is a hit and run truck, but this truck is a serious wreck.
The ride will soon be destroyed and the rest will soon be devoured by rust.
Or some bulldozer driver will bury it deep in its shroud of mud, grease and bull dust.
The Cab is in shambles, the bearings are shot, the tires are more than well worn.
The trailer is a buckle, the skid plates are bent.
All the tops are discolored.
And now we're on a ride, and it's late at night.




Amen.
Amen.