Additional Notes:

No Notes Available

Backstory:

Bucky Jones and I would be willing to forgo our publishing. Curly Putman's 1/3 share is with Sony/ATV Music Publishing Nashville.

                                             

Lyrics:

                                                  
Fix This Truck			

Drivin' down to Macon my ol' truck's engine played out
Oil light was blinkin', it was spittin' out a hot steam cloud
Took a tow truck ride to a Texaco a man put 'er on a lift
Said, "she's bleedin' rust, motors cooked 'n its hard to find parts for it" 
And I said, 

(Chorus 1)
"This truck was my dad's
I still see him in that cab
What I'd give for one more fishin' trip                                                                                              
When I close my eyes he's drivin' it
There's a million boyhood mem'rys 'neath that red Georgia dust
So mister, please fix this truck"

He stood there for a minute, greasy rag held in his hands
Then he tugged his cap n' said, "I'll do the best I can
Can't promise much, but I'll be in touch, son if it's meant to be"
I said, "I know it's only metal, but it means so much to me
doncha' see,

(Repeat chorus 1)

It must've been a month when he pulled up right out front
In a 30 year old like new red pickup truck
Well, he tugged his cap, gave my back a slap, then pulled his wallet out
Showed me a black n' white and I thought I saw a tear runnin' down
And he said, 		

(Chorus)
"This truck was my dad's
I still see him in that cab
What I'd give for one more fishin' trip
Cuz, when I close my eyes he's drivin' it
There's a million boyhood mem'rys 'neath that Alabama dust
And he taught me how to fix this truck
Yeah, he taught me how to fix this truck"


Copyright Pat Kelley/Curly Putman/Bucky Jones