4:58 a.m. (dunroamin, duncarin, dunlivin)

Truckdriver : "Hey kid, you looking for a lift?...Get on up here
How's it going good buddy?"

I nailed ducks to the wall
Kept my heart in dark ruins
I built bungalows all over the hills
Dunroamin, duncarin, dunlivin

Took my girl to the country
To sleep out under the moon
Next thing she's going crazy

Trucker :"Women are like that kid
What the hell can you do?"

She waits for the real Mr. Right to come
Gently removing her heart
With his promises of real communication

Trucker :"I saw a program about that on TV......"

Who's always picking up the tab
Who built a bungalow for his mum and dad
Me Who took you out to all the shows
Who worked his fingers to the bone
Me
While you were asleep

Man :"It was me...I did"

I kept you in buttons and bows

Man :"Christ all those clothes"

So you could encourage this creep
With his neat feet
And his clean fingernails
With his wise but twinkling eyes
He's a rock standing out in an ocean of doubt

Trucker :"Get moving, get off the road ya Goddamn faggot"

And compromise

I'd like to go on with this bit of a song
Describing this schmuck
I'd like to go on
But I'm gonna throw up

Trucker :"Not in my rig you don't boy...get the hell out of here"