My Truck

For Sandy

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They say it’s all about the pickup truck 

With all that sparkling chrome. 

But I don’t give a damn for that. 

​

My pickup truck don't hardly run 

The tires are worn thin 

My concentration ain't so good 

The light is growing dim.

​

They say it's all about the truck 

To entice the ladies in. 

​

It takes a special kind of girl to jump into my truck.

She's got to see beyond the rust, beyond the muck,

Beyond the mottled paint.

 

But I don't want no Prima Donna 

Or prissy girl who faints. 

​

I want a girl who's tough and honest 

Who tells me what she thinks.

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Otherwise it's all just bull 

and I got no time for that.

 

But when she gets beyond the rust 

And when she gets a glimmer 

Her eyes light up 

She settles back 

We pick up speed 

The world begins to shimmer. 

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My truck she shimmies badly between fifty-five and sixty.

After that she settles down 

and cruising  

is quite pleasing.