Lyrics

Well, my tailpipe, it was draggin', and my brakes would barely stop So I pulled my old pickup in this automotive shop I said, 'I'd like an estimate' to what appeared to be the boss Then I sat down in the lobby, afraid to find out what it'd cost The this guy said, 'Follow me, sir,' his arms all greasy black He had his name stitched on his pocket, he had my truck up on the rack He said, "You need all four brake shoes, and your muffler's rotted out But I overheard how broke you were, so I'll try to keep it down" Chorus: Here's to ya, Roger, and your two hard working hands With dirt under your fingernails, you're the backbone of this land And I know you'll keep me runnin'long as you can find the part So here's to ya Roger, and your true blue collar heart Well, he struck up a conversation as he set his hands to work He cussed a bloody knuckle, then he called his boss a jerk He said, 'We're supposed to get the most from the customers we can And by the way, what do you do? You look like you're in a band' Well, I told him I wrote songs, and he said, 'Man that's really cool' And he got real excited and he put down his power tool He said, 'You may not believe this, but I once met Brenda Lee' Started whistling one of her songs And said, I'll do the muffler free Chorus Well, as my truck descended, I went inside to pay the bill He said, 'Don't bring up the muffler or he'll fire me sure as hell' Back outside, I thanked him and I was down the road and gone And I sure hope he don't lose his job when his boss man hears this song Chorus
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