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

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 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

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