Chords for Terry Allen - Truckload of Art (Official Audio)
Tempo:
142.6 bpm
Chords used:
A
E
D
Bm
B
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Start Jamming...
[A]
Once upon a time, some time ago [E] back on the East Coast, [D] in New York City to be exact,
a bunch of [A] artists and painters and sculptors and musicians and poets and writers and actors
and dancers and [E] architects all [A] started feeling real superior to their ego counterparts [D] out
on the West Coast.
So they all got [A] together and decided they would show those snotty surfer upstarts a
thing or two about the Big Apple and they hired themselves a truck.
It was [E] a big spanking new [D] white shiny chrome plated cab over Peterbilt [A] with mud flaps,
stereo, TV, AM and FM radio, leather [E] seats and a Naugahyde [A] sleeper.
All fresh with new American flag decals and Art Arc printed on the side of the door with
solid 24 karat gold leaf type.
And they filled up this truck with the most significant piles [E] and influential heaps of
artwork [Bm] to ever be [D] assembled in modern times and [A] sent it west to chide, cajole, humble
and humiliate the [E] Golden Bear.
And this is [A] the true story of that truck.
Yeah, the truckload of art [D] from New [A] York City came a rolling down [E] the road.
[D] A driver was singing [A] and the sunset was pretty, but the truck turned over [B] and she [E] rode off [A] the road.
[D] Yeah, the truckload of art, [A] it's a burning near the highway, precious optics are scattered
all over [E] the ground.
And it's [D] a terrible sight [A] if a person were to see it, but there weren't nobody around.
[E]
[A]
[D]
[E] [A]
And the driver went sailing [D] high in [A] the sky, landing in the gold lap [E] of the Lord, [D] who's
smiling and said, son, [A] you're better off dead than hauling a truckload [E] full of hot [A] avant-garde.
[Dm] Yeah, the [D] truckload of art, [A] it's a burning near the highway, precious optics are scattered
all over [E] the ground.
And [D] it's a terrible sight [A] if a person were to see it, but there weren't [E] nobody [A] around.
Yeah, some important artwork, [D] stone burning [A] to the ground, tragically landing [E] in the weeds.
[D] And the smoke could be seen [A] both miles all around, yeah, but nobody [E]
knows [A] what it means.
Yeah, [D] the truckload of art, [A] it's a burning near the highway, and a tough job for the highway [E] patrol.
[D] I soon see the smoke [A] come running to poke, then dig a deep ditch [E] and throw the arts [A] in a hole.
[E]
[A]
[D] [E]
[A]
[D] Yeah, the truckload of art, [A] it's a burning near the highway, and it's raging far out [E] of control.
And [D] what the critics have cheered is [A] now shattered and queered, and their noble reviews have
[E] been stewed on [A] the road.
[D] Yeah, the truckload of art, it's a [A] burning near the highway, precious optics are scattered
all over [E] the ground.
Oh, [D] a terrible sight if [A] a person were to see it, but there weren't [E] nobody around.
[D] [A] [N]
Once upon a time, some time ago [E] back on the East Coast, [D] in New York City to be exact,
a bunch of [A] artists and painters and sculptors and musicians and poets and writers and actors
and dancers and [E] architects all [A] started feeling real superior to their ego counterparts [D] out
on the West Coast.
So they all got [A] together and decided they would show those snotty surfer upstarts a
thing or two about the Big Apple and they hired themselves a truck.
It was [E] a big spanking new [D] white shiny chrome plated cab over Peterbilt [A] with mud flaps,
stereo, TV, AM and FM radio, leather [E] seats and a Naugahyde [A] sleeper.
All fresh with new American flag decals and Art Arc printed on the side of the door with
solid 24 karat gold leaf type.
And they filled up this truck with the most significant piles [E] and influential heaps of
artwork [Bm] to ever be [D] assembled in modern times and [A] sent it west to chide, cajole, humble
and humiliate the [E] Golden Bear.
And this is [A] the true story of that truck.
Yeah, the truckload of art [D] from New [A] York City came a rolling down [E] the road.
[D] A driver was singing [A] and the sunset was pretty, but the truck turned over [B] and she [E] rode off [A] the road.
[D] Yeah, the truckload of art, [A] it's a burning near the highway, precious optics are scattered
all over [E] the ground.
And it's [D] a terrible sight [A] if a person were to see it, but there weren't nobody around.
[E]
[A]
[D]
[E] [A]
And the driver went sailing [D] high in [A] the sky, landing in the gold lap [E] of the Lord, [D] who's
smiling and said, son, [A] you're better off dead than hauling a truckload [E] full of hot [A] avant-garde.
[Dm] Yeah, the [D] truckload of art, [A] it's a burning near the highway, precious optics are scattered
all over [E] the ground.
And [D] it's a terrible sight [A] if a person were to see it, but there weren't [E] nobody [A] around.
Yeah, some important artwork, [D] stone burning [A] to the ground, tragically landing [E] in the weeds.
[D] And the smoke could be seen [A] both miles all around, yeah, but nobody [E]
knows [A] what it means.
Yeah, [D] the truckload of art, [A] it's a burning near the highway, and a tough job for the highway [E] patrol.
[D] I soon see the smoke [A] come running to poke, then dig a deep ditch [E] and throw the arts [A] in a hole.
[E]
[A]
[D] [E]
[A]
[D] Yeah, the truckload of art, [A] it's a burning near the highway, and it's raging far out [E] of control.
And [D] what the critics have cheered is [A] now shattered and queered, and their noble reviews have
[E] been stewed on [A] the road.
[D] Yeah, the truckload of art, it's a [A] burning near the highway, precious optics are scattered
all over [E] the ground.
Oh, [D] a terrible sight if [A] a person were to see it, but there weren't [E] nobody around.
[D] [A] [N]
Key:
A
E
D
Bm
B
A
E
D
_ _ _ [A] _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ Once upon a time, some time ago [E] back on the East Coast, [D] in New York City to be exact,
a bunch of [A] artists and painters and sculptors and musicians and poets and writers and actors
and dancers and [E] architects _ all [A] started feeling real superior to their ego counterparts [D] out
on the West Coast.
So they all got [A] together and decided they would show those snotty surfer upstarts a
thing or two about the Big Apple and they hired themselves a truck.
_ It was [E] a big spanking new [D] white shiny chrome plated cab over Peterbilt [A] with mud flaps,
stereo, _ TV, AM and FM radio, leather [E] seats and a Naugahyde [A] sleeper.
All fresh with new American flag decals and Art Arc printed on the side of the door with
solid 24 karat gold leaf type.
And they filled up this truck with the most significant piles [E] and influential heaps of
artwork [Bm] to ever be [D] assembled in modern times and [A] sent it west to chide, _ cajole, humble
and humiliate the [E] Golden Bear.
And this is [A] the true story of that truck. _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ Yeah, the truckload of art [D] from New [A] York City came a rolling _ down [E] the road. _ _
[D] A driver was singing [A] and the sunset was pretty, but the truck turned over [B] and she [E] rode off [A] the road.
_ _ [D] Yeah, the truckload of art, [A] it's a burning near the highway, precious optics are scattered
all over [E] the ground. _ _
And it's [D] a terrible _ sight [A] if a person were to see it, but there weren't nobody _ _ around. _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ [E] _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ [A] _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ [D] _ _
_ [E] _ _ [A] _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ And the driver went sailing _ [D] high in [A] the sky, _ landing in the gold lap [E] of the Lord, _ _ _ [D] who's
smiling and said, son, [A] you're better off dead than hauling a truckload [E] full of hot [A] avant-garde. _ _
[Dm] Yeah, the [D] truckload of art, [A] it's a burning near the highway, precious optics are scattered
all over [E] the ground.
_ _ And [D] it's a terrible sight [A] if a person were to see it, but there weren't _ [E] nobody _ [A] around.
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ Yeah, some important _ artwork, [D] stone burning [A] to the _ ground, _ _ _ tragically _ landing [E] in the weeds. _ _
[D] And the smoke could be seen [A] both miles all around, yeah, but nobody _ [E]
knows [A] what it means. _ _
Yeah, [D] the truckload of art, [A] it's a burning near the highway, and a tough job for the highway [E] patrol. _ _ _
[D] I soon see the smoke [A] come running to poke, then dig a deep ditch [E] and throw the arts [A] in a hole. _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ [E] _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ [A] _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ [D] _ _ _ [E] _ _
_ [A] _ _ _ _ _
[D] Yeah, the truckload of art, [A] it's a burning near the highway, and it's raging far out [E] of control. _ _
And [D] what the critics have cheered is [A] now shattered and queered, and their noble _ reviews have
[E] been stewed on [A] the road.
_ _ _ [D] Yeah, the truckload of art, it's a [A] burning near the highway, precious optics are scattered
all over [E] the ground. _ _
Oh, [D] a terrible _ sight if [A] a person were to see it, but there weren't [E] _ nobody _ _ _ _ _
around.
[D] _ _ _ _ [A] _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ [N] _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ Once upon a time, some time ago [E] back on the East Coast, [D] in New York City to be exact,
a bunch of [A] artists and painters and sculptors and musicians and poets and writers and actors
and dancers and [E] architects _ all [A] started feeling real superior to their ego counterparts [D] out
on the West Coast.
So they all got [A] together and decided they would show those snotty surfer upstarts a
thing or two about the Big Apple and they hired themselves a truck.
_ It was [E] a big spanking new [D] white shiny chrome plated cab over Peterbilt [A] with mud flaps,
stereo, _ TV, AM and FM radio, leather [E] seats and a Naugahyde [A] sleeper.
All fresh with new American flag decals and Art Arc printed on the side of the door with
solid 24 karat gold leaf type.
And they filled up this truck with the most significant piles [E] and influential heaps of
artwork [Bm] to ever be [D] assembled in modern times and [A] sent it west to chide, _ cajole, humble
and humiliate the [E] Golden Bear.
And this is [A] the true story of that truck. _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ Yeah, the truckload of art [D] from New [A] York City came a rolling _ down [E] the road. _ _
[D] A driver was singing [A] and the sunset was pretty, but the truck turned over [B] and she [E] rode off [A] the road.
_ _ [D] Yeah, the truckload of art, [A] it's a burning near the highway, precious optics are scattered
all over [E] the ground. _ _
And it's [D] a terrible _ sight [A] if a person were to see it, but there weren't nobody _ _ around. _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ [E] _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ [A] _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ [D] _ _
_ [E] _ _ [A] _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ And the driver went sailing _ [D] high in [A] the sky, _ landing in the gold lap [E] of the Lord, _ _ _ [D] who's
smiling and said, son, [A] you're better off dead than hauling a truckload [E] full of hot [A] avant-garde. _ _
[Dm] Yeah, the [D] truckload of art, [A] it's a burning near the highway, precious optics are scattered
all over [E] the ground.
_ _ And [D] it's a terrible sight [A] if a person were to see it, but there weren't _ [E] nobody _ [A] around.
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ Yeah, some important _ artwork, [D] stone burning [A] to the _ ground, _ _ _ tragically _ landing [E] in the weeds. _ _
[D] And the smoke could be seen [A] both miles all around, yeah, but nobody _ [E]
knows [A] what it means. _ _
Yeah, [D] the truckload of art, [A] it's a burning near the highway, and a tough job for the highway [E] patrol. _ _ _
[D] I soon see the smoke [A] come running to poke, then dig a deep ditch [E] and throw the arts [A] in a hole. _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ [E] _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ [A] _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ [D] _ _ _ [E] _ _
_ [A] _ _ _ _ _
[D] Yeah, the truckload of art, [A] it's a burning near the highway, and it's raging far out [E] of control. _ _
And [D] what the critics have cheered is [A] now shattered and queered, and their noble _ reviews have
[E] been stewed on [A] the road.
_ _ _ [D] Yeah, the truckload of art, it's a [A] burning near the highway, precious optics are scattered
all over [E] the ground. _ _
Oh, [D] a terrible _ sight if [A] a person were to see it, but there weren't [E] _ nobody _ _ _ _ _
around.
[D] _ _ _ _ [A] _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ [N] _ _ _
Facts about this song