Daddy drove a truck
I'm a trucker's son
I'll be driving eighteen wheelers
'til my trucking days are done
Momma lives for trucks
looking good under the hood
born in a cab
I have trucking in the blood
and it takes air brakes truck stops
weigh stations too
pedal to the metal
coming on through
fired up wired up shifting gears
running on caffeine
it's music to my ears
I have a yearning
to hear those engines burning
rolling down the road
to the sound of wheels turning
hit the highway as day's dawning
I love the smell of diesel in the morning
Diesel spray for Christmas
Butt-face bar of soap for birthday, it's no small joke
On isthmus
They laughed out loud
Though on emotions 'bout to choke
You're ploughed
Watch out!
Charma evokes.
Flout~
Diesel spray for Christmas
Though on emotions 'bout to choke
Flout~~
A diesel fitter was on twitter,
He said, "We make leggings with glitter!"
When they are done
He is the one
Who then says, "Oh yeah, diesel fitter!"
The sun will shine brighter tomorrow when...
If you’re thinking meek is weak, you might be wrong.
We all know "peace and love" kind of people.
Check out their fuel you will learn that they’re strong
They do not argue what's good with what's evil.
“Meek” combusts from inside, working hard and long;
I’ve discovered that meekness runs on diesel.
Humility's patina shines from within.
written Jan 30, 2017, edited Jun 30, 2018
Face well worn, Graying hair,
Marlboro in his mouth.
Clay-dirt boots, dusty hat,
Bologna from a sack.
Tastes of nicotine and diesel,
he can’t spit it out.
The old man makes his living
on a caterpillars back.
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