HARDY - TRUCK: chords

          D
If it's cleaned up, shined up, pedal down on main
        Bm                         G
You can bet he's pickin' up some pretty country 
thing
         D
If it's covered up in red mud with a worn-out 
WARN winch
           Bm                              G
There's a good chance that that man is a pretty 
damn good friend

If there's horns in the back
There's a gun in the front
If there's dents on the side
He ain't scared of nothin'
And if the 12-pack's in the passenger seat
Well he probably worked his ass off all week

Chorus:
       D
Yeah, somewhere way out there in any given town
          Bm                              G
There's a red, white, and blue collared drivin'
his around
 D
Turnin' heads and burnin' tread and
stirrin' up dust clouds
        Bm                    G
Like a shine-haulin' outlaw, yeah,
I'm talkin' 'bout
      D
His truck, his dash, the county on his tag
     Bm                       G
The songs on his radio, the stickers on his glass
      D
From four-bys to two-bys, it's true you can't judge
   Bm                             G
A book by its cover, but you can judge
                       D
a country boy by his truck

If there's a silver cross hangin' off
his dusty old rearview
It's safe to say he's found Amazing Grace
a time or two
If there's numbers on the back '92 to 2012
Bet this story's about his best friend that
he can barely tell
'Cause he misses him like hell

Chorus:
Somewhere way out there in any given town
There's a red, white, and blue collar drivin'
his around
Turnin' heads, and burnin' tread, and stirrin'
up dust clouds
Like a shine haulin' outlaw
Yeah, I'm talkin' 'bout his truck
His dash
The county on his tag
The songs on his radio
The stickers on his glass
From four bars to two bars
It's true you can't judge
A book by its cover
But you can judge a country boy by his truck

If there's horns in the back
There's a gun in the front
If there's dents on the side
He ain't scared of nothin'
And if the 12-pack's in the passenger seat
Yeah, well he probably worked his ass off all week

Chorus:
Yeah, somewhere way out there in any given town
There's a red, white,
and blue collar drivin' his around
Turnin' heads, and burnin' tread,
and stirrin' up dust clouds
Like a shine haulin' outlaw
Yeah, I'm talkin' 'bout his truck
His dash
The county on his tag
The songs on his radio
The stickers on his glass
From four bars to two bars
It's true you can't judge
A book by its cover
But you can judge a country boy by his truck

If there's horns in the back
There's a gun in the front
If there's dents on the side
Yeah, you can judge a country boy by his truck
If there's horns in the back
There's a gun in the front
You can't judge a book by its cover
But you can judge a country boy by his truck