Tom: Eb major
Verse 1
Ab
Db
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
Gb
Ab
And your only profession
Db
is err drivin' a truck
Ab
So we talked for a spell and he gave
Eb
This cunning ole guy known
Db
The rig which he owned was
an F model Mack
Gb
Ab
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
Ab
With the sands of a desert,
Db
put your gears to the test
Ab
But I battled along an' I shif
Eb
Old Bent—Axle whinged every time
Db
Small won der if you saw
Gb
the smoke from the pump
Ab
An d saw half the metal that I
Ab
Db
(Oh yeah, that's right.)
The trailers were buckled,
The tarps which he owned were
The dogs and the chains
Gb
were all rusty and joined
Ab
Oh was easy to see how
Db
his nickname was coined
Db
and the dolly was cracked
Eb
The kingpins was strained from
Ab
the loads they had hacked
Db
Gb
I did what I could mate, yes I really tried
Ab
Old Bent Axle whinged 'til
Ab
Db
(He did yeah)
I'm sittin' here at home an'
No longer employed by
I note from the lawyer,
Ab
Seems I have a road train now
Db
that old Bent Axle died
Ab
Yes I'm heir to the fortune
Eb
"I needed a good driver
Db
You can drive this old rig to
Gb
the scrap dealers dump
Ab
Complete with bent axles
Db
and that smokey fuel pump."
Complete with bent axles
Ab
You can drive this old wreck to
the scrap dealers dump
Ab
Db
Db
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