Tom: Eb major•
Verse 1
Eb
Ab
I was short of a dollar so
Who's pay wasn't good,
You can't pick and choose when
you're down on your luck
Db
Eb
And your only profession
Ab
is err drivin' a truck
Eb
So we talked for a spell and he gave
Bb
This cunning ole guy known
Ab
The rig which he owned was
an F model Mack
Db
Eb
And the run that I drew was
Bob's brakes was the kind which
The places he sent me would just
From dead—ends in Balmain to drill
Eb
With the sands of a desert,
Ab
put your gears to the test
Eb
But I battled along an' I shif
Bb
Old Bent—Axle whinged every time
Ab
Small won der if you saw
Db
the smoke from the pump
Eb
An d saw half the metal that I
Eb
Ab
(Oh yeah, that's right.)
The trailers were buckled,
The tarps which he owned were
The dogs and the chains
Db
were all rusty and joined
Eb
Oh was easy to see how
Ab
his nickname was coined
Ab
and the dolly was cracked
Bb
The kingpins was strained from
Eb
the loads they had hacked
Ab
Db
I did what I could mate, yes I really tried
Eb
Old Bent Axle whinged 'til
Eb
Ab
(He did yeah)
I'm sittin' here at home an'
No longer employed by
I note from the lawyer,
Eb
Seems I have a road train now
Ab
that old Bent Axle died
Eb
Yes I'm heir to the fortune
Bb
"I needed a good driver
Ab
You can drive this old rig to
Db
the scrap dealers dump
Eb
Complete with bent axles
Ab
and that smokey fuel pump."
Complete with bent axles
Eb
You can drive this old wreck to
the scrap dealers dump
Eb
Ab
Ab
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AfinadorE A D G B E
AcordesEb Ab Db Bb
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