40 tons of rolling warehouse
Making its way down the road
Theres a shelf in a store in Pittsburgh
That needs everything on this load
The average Joe has no clue
How he gets his goods
All he knows is it appears on a shelf
Just like he knew it would
From diapers to dry food
Its all hauled by a truck
Try and build a house with no wood
I don't much think you'd have much luck
From the shirt on your back
To the seat where you set
Without the American trucker out there
Nothing, I repeat nothing would you get
The dishes you wash
And all the baby's milk
That big screen TV
And that fancy dress of silk
Your ritzy black Bentley
To the money in your bank
It's all brought by a trucker
Bout time we give them some thanks
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice poem, and the rhythm isn't bad, but I would work on it a little.