Truck Love

As we drive back on an old country road,

With your windows down and a soft warm breeze,

We can smell summer hay just being mowed

And I think of all my great love for thee.

Your six point two liter V-eight warms my heart,

Your comforting hum of new big mud tires,

I love how you roll pull, it is an art,

These work together to fill my desires.

For me you haul tractors, cattle, and such.

You’ve carried me far; through snow wind and rain.

You hold my fresh produce, sometimes a bunch,

The work never ends, yet you don’t complain.

I’ll love you for life, I swear to the Lord.

‘Cause you aren’t just any truck, you’re a Ford.