Three hundred bucks and a coat of rustGranddad's old Ford that we all called GusFirst gear grind and a hole in the floorBut it ran like freedom out that gravel doorThe old truckCarried every version of meFirst date, first job, first jump in the creekShe's slower now but she still runs toughHalf my whole life happened in the old truckLearned to drive in the church parking lotStalled it twice but the third time caughtCarried hay and carried heartsCarried me home in a hundred startsThe old truckCarried every version of meFirst date, first job, first jump in the creekShe's slower now but she still runs toughHalf my whole life happened in the old truckNow my boy is twelve and he eyes the keysSays one day will you give old Gus to meAnd I see myself in his country grinSo I tossed him a rag and said let's beginSome things you fix and you don't replaceSome things hold a whole family's faceA truck's just metal till the years make it moreThen it's the realest thing you ever bought for sureThe old truckHalf my whole life happened in the old truck
