Grandpa's truck was beat up and blue
And nearly rusted all the way through

And it's a common trait in all old pickups
To hit every pothole and give your seat the hiccups

Bouncing like you're on a trampoline
While the tailpipe coughs a cloud of gasoline

You can still ride smooth upon the interstate
And listen to the front drive axles grate

A window roller wobbles on the door
And the glove compartment hatch is on the floor

A sun visor drops with a couple loud flaps
Spilling some old receipts and tattered maps

Grandpa sees the mess upon the seat
Grinning like he just ate a candy treat

You try to help him gather up the trash
Till he swerves and bonks your head upon the dash

Whether going to the store or out to fish
A drive with Grandpa gave me more than I could wish