| My uncle pete was a trucker
|
| Riding that nullarbour plain
|
| Ten split gears and an overdrive
|
| Chrome stacks shooting out flames
|
| He’d throw me up into the cab
|
| My little hands would grip the wheel
|
| I would dream about the day
|
| I would drive that rig for real
|
| Rolling, rolling, rolling around the world
|
| Ten years old and ten feet tall, waving goodbye
|
| To the girl next door
|
| Rolling, rolling today i’m the king of the street
|
| I got my sleeves rolled up and my arm hanging out
|
| As i drive off with uncle pete
|
| As i drive off with uncle pete
|
| Heading west on highway one
|
| My eyes glued to the road
|
| The two-way always in my hand
|
| «little buddy» that’s my code
|
| We pull into micks for a pie and chips
|
| Not a brussel sprout in sight
|
| Some yarns to spin as we listen to slim
|
| Then we drive into the night
|
| If i had one wish i’d wanna be
|
| If i had one wish i’d wanna be
|
| If i had one wish i’d wanna be like my uncle pete |