Lyrics:
I left my home in Monterey
Just another no prospects man
Who'd rather work in the foundries
Than put fishes in a can
I'm twenty-five but I have not
has risen from the grave
Catholic schoolgirls have thrown away their mascara
They chain themselves to the axles of big Mack trucks
The sky is
risen from the grave.
Catholic schoolgirls have thrown away their mascara,
They chain themselves to the axles of big Mack trucks,
The sky is filled with
you, if you please;
Truck you, five bucks the pair.
Can you name the truck with four wheel drive,
smells like a steak and seats thirty-five..
Canyonero! Canyonero!
Well, it goes real slow with
going down
'Til the sun comes up
Ain't givin' in
'Til they get enough
Going 'round the world
In a pickup truck
Ain't goin' down
'Til the sun comes
time the evenin' race is on
It's that five o'clock 500 and I run it every day
Pick up trucks, cars and buses all in my way
We've got Darrel, we've got
truck came down our block
What a lucky guy, I hear he got the last one in stock
And the neighbors are just green
They say, "That's the biggest screen
I'm just a country boy, I drive a four-by-four
It's usually covered in mud, from the axle to the door
It's a little banged up, a little too much rust
My friend picked me up about quarter past 5
We stopped and got some donuts and we took a little drive
We had a can of nitrous, we rolled
And dancing cheek to cheek
Ain't going down 'til the sun comes up
Ain't givin' in 'til they get enough
Going 'round the world in a pickup truck
Ain't
five-hundred pounds and it sleeps on his floor
He's a drug store truck drivin' man
He's the head of the Ku Klux Klan
When summer rolls around
He'll be
He's a drug store truck drivin man
He's a head of the Ku Klux Klan
When summer rolls around
He'll be lucky if he's not in town
Well he's got
V6, ooh, V12 (V12)
Just shoppin', raise Hell (raise Hell)
Pretty boy, baby, paint nails
Twelve gauge ready, blow shells
V6, whoa, V12 (V12)
Just
on Ozzy's train
It's driving me insane
5-1-5-0, somebody call the po-po
I'm goin' crazy, thinkin' 'bout you baby
5-1-5-0, just this side of loco
I'm
five-hundred pounds and it sleeps on his floor
He's a drug store truck drivin' man
He's the head of the Ku Klux Klan
When summer rolls around
He'll be
A cold beer's got twelve ounces
A good truck's got maybe three hundred thousand
You only get so much until it's gone
Duracells in a Maglite
love, first touch
That don't ever seem to fade
And I just need to see your face
It's a ten minute drive, this ol' truck's gonna fly
I'll be there in five
in might
Flames light sky engines take flight
Trucks collidin chaos in the air
Lucas scream loud feelin no despair
Axles bend frames twist can't stop
Well there's those boys, got the kind of ride
Get fifty-five to the gallon
They listen to that new school
Never heard of George or Alan
There's
It's a junked out joint off a backroad
A blinkin' window sign with an arrow
A gravel lot chalked full of toolbox trucks
Makin' their happy hour
Ain't no way that me and this truck made her fall in love
Jack makes good whiskey but God makes the good stuff
Five foot nine, brown eyes,
Yeah, well I bought a truck
Got a V8 engine in it
Big ol' truck
Bought it off the lot just yesterday
Big ol' fuckin' truck
Nice tires on that
Bought
& blues
There's nothing worse than the rattle and roll of empty cans
Bouncin' around in the bed of my truck
Boy I'm a thirsty man
Five hot long miles
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