The road is hard
The road is long
I drive too fast
The wind blows strong
I tried to tie it down
It still flops around
My chair—my royal throne
It’s all I got
It’s not a lot
To show for the years
And the fight we fought
She paid the bill
I miss her still
This chair is all I own
Aye, yie, yie, yie, yie, yie, yie, yie, yie, yie
CHORUS
I suck, I suck
I move the big chair in the little truck
My luck has gone away
Big chair in little truck
Got no TV
But I am free
And freedom tastes
Like reality
When we split apart
It freeze-dried my heart
But this chair is mine alone
I want to stop
I’m ’bout to drop
I’m going 85—
Look out, there’s a cop
I think that I might
Get to my new home by night
I wonder—should I phone?
CHORUS
Mexican radio
Seven rest stops to go
I’ve got my clothes and my dignity
And a big comfy symbol to show
CHORUS
You know I suck, I suck
I move the big chair in the little truck
A schmuck am I today
Big chair in little truck
