Trailer trucks don't relent,
Driven by drunken gents.
Alone, d'ya lose a pet?
Maybe its maker it's met.
On those two-lane roads the trucks zoom,
And the shoulders ain't got much room.
Then a van car reams and a careens. . .
Kill on the road.

Old box truck with bad brakes
And struts. . .when driven, shakes.
Got old worn-out brake shoes;
The driver's been drainin' booze.
Blue smoke is chokin' all around,
And the truck is runnin' down
Errant Manx that preened on road. . .creamed,
Kill on the road.

When built, these trucks were engineered to be driven straight,
But sometimes their drivers inebriate.
There's maintenance planned, but the maintenance clowns
Don't change the shocks, none in stock,
The chassis drops down,

It sinks.
Trailer truck axle's bent
Because the mechanic gent
Went to get whistle wet
And the driver did abet
The man's descent to bein' bum,
Relentlessly pushing rum.
Driver man's smile beams; throws down Beams,
Then hits the road.