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