Papa drove a [bad word] nearly all his life 
You know it drove mama crazy being a [bad word] 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 [bad word] in 
When Daddy'd hang up then 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