Chris Moyles - Lorry Driver lyrics

rate me

You're a man

Who knows exactly where he's goin

On the road

With all your eighteen wheels a' rollin

You deliver milk or sand

or pigs or paint across the land

That's what you do

What you do, mister

A workin man

You drive a wagon for a livin

Arrive on time

Cos that's important when deliverin'

Bread or bikes or garden chairs

or sheds or beds or dancing bears

That's what you do

What you do, mister

Lorry driver, lorry, lorry driver

You're a lorry driver

Oh, lorry driver, oh

You're a lorry driver, mister

Horn, get out of

Horn Horn, the way

Lorry driver, lorry driver

Lorry driver

Eating sausage rolls and cornish pasties

crisps and jaffa cakes

Drinking coffee and some red bull

on your scheduled tacho breaks

You work away

For several days

Life on the road

You're a lorry driver

Live behind the wheel

You drive from Devon up to Aberdeen

Pull off at the services

for diesel and nuts magazine

You read the Sun

And have a saggy bum

Everyone can tell

You're a lorry driver

Trucker man

You crunch the miles to make a dollar

It's just a shame

You've got the body of Rik Waller

You should be on Slimfast

you spend your life sat on your ass

But that's the way it is

The way it is mister

Off you go

You've had a kip and had your dinner

And hung up your

New centrefold of Lucy Pinder

You're the greatest driver

fuelled by Yorkie bars and Tizer

That's the way you roll

The way you roll mister

Lorry driver, lorry, lorry driver

You're a lorry driver

Oh, lorry driver, oh

You're a lorry driver, mister

Horn, get out of

Horn Horn, the way

Lorry driver, lorry driver

Lorry driver

Eating sausage rolls and cornish pasties

crisps and jaffa cakes

Drinking coffee and some Red Bull

on your scheduled tacho breaks

You work away

For several days

Life on the road

You're a lorry driver

Live behind the wheel

You drive from Devon up to Aberdeen

Pull off at the services

for diesel and Nuts Magazine

You read the Sun

And have a saggy bum

Everyone can tell

You're a Lorry Driver

Maybe if I didn't drive a truck for my work

My wife would look like Jordan rather than Pauline Quirke

And she does a bit, a little bit

Lorry driver, lorry, lorry driver

You're a lorry driver

Oh, lorry driver, oh

You're a lorry driver, mister

Horn, get out of

Horn Horn, the way

Lorry driver, lorry driver

Lorry driver

Eating sausage rolls and cornish pasties

crisps and jaffa cakes

Drinking coffee and some Red Bull

on your scheduled tacho breaks

You work away

For several days

Life on the road

You're a lorry driver

Live behind the wheel

You drive from Devon up to Aberdeen

Pull off at the services

for diesel and Nuts Magazine

You read the Sun

And have a saggy bum

Everyone can tell

You're a Lorry Driver

Eating sausage rolls and cornish pasties

crisps and jaffa cakes

Drinking coffee and some Red Bull

on your scheduled tacho breaks

Lorry driver, lorry, lorry driver

You're a lorry driver

Oh, lorry driver, oh

You're a lorry driver, mister