My New Truck

I was haulin' all my garbage to ah'r local dumpin' spot.
Smelly cans o' refuse in the back o' my old Dodge.
Somethin' wasn't settin' right an' really nagg'd on me,
So I went inside an' cracked a beer in front o' my teevee.

This guy inside the teevee set was talkin' 'bout his store.
Said they sell a hunnerd cars a day or mebbe even more.
Invited me to come on down—said all his cars was clean.
Swore he'd make me such a deal as one I never seen.

First thing they done showed me had a yeller racin' stripe.
They sicc'd me on a blue one but it jes' wasn't right.
Out there near the street was my fav'rite on the lot.
A candy-apple red 'un I just loved right on the spot.

I opened up my checkbook, threw in ever'thing I own.
I cain't believe they'd trust me with a twenty-five-year loan.
The sticker shock I swaller'd wasn't half as hard to hold
As the whack my honey gimme when I drove that baby home.

My new custom-tailored pickup has a V-8 four-oh-four,
An eight-disk CD changer an' subwoofers in the doors,
A power-star transmission, chrome mags on ev'ry wheel.
Only forty thousand bucks—I got me quite a deal.

I keep her shined an' spotless, an' she stays in my garage,
'Cause I still haul my garbage t' the dump in my ol' Dodge.