Truckload of Art

[Spoken Intro]
Once upon a time, some time ago back on the East Coast - in New York City, to be exact - a bunch of artists and painters and sculptors and musicians and poets and writers and actors and dancers and architects all started feeling real superior to their ego counterparts out on the West Coast卻o, so they all got 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 a big, spanking new, white, shiny, chrome-plated, cab-over Peterbilt with mudflaps, stereo, TV, AM and FM radio, leather seats, and a Naugahyde sleeper, all fresh with new American flag decals, and "ART ARK" printed on the side of the door with solid, twenty-four karat gold leaf type, and they filled up this truck with the most significant piles and influential heaps of artwork to ever be assembled in modern times, and sent it west to chide, cajole, humble, and humiliate the Golden Bear, and this is the true story of that truck

[Verse 1]
Well, a truckload of art from New York City
Came rolling down the road
Aw, the driver was singing and the sunset was pretty
But the truck turned over and she rolled off the road

[Chorus 1]
Yeah, a truckload of art, it's burning near the highway
Precious objects are scattered all over the ground
And it's a terrible sight if a person were to see it
But there weren't nobody around

[Verse 2]
Well, the driver went sailing high in the sky
Landing in the gold lap of the Lord
Who smiled and then said "Son, you're better off dead
Than hauling a truckload full of hot avant-garde"

[Chorus 1]
Yeah, a truckload of art, it's burning near the highway
Precious objects are scattered all over the ground
And it's a terrible sight if a person were to see it
But there weren't nobody around

[Verse 3]
Yes, an important artwork was thrown burning to the ground
Tragically landing in the weeds
And the smoke could be seen, boy, for miles all around
Yeah, but nobody knows what it means

[Chorus 2]
Yeah, a truckload of art, it's burning near the highway
And a tough job for the highway patrol
Aw, they'll soon see the smoke and come running to poke
Then dig a deep ditch and throw the arts in a hole

[Chorus 3]
Yeah, a truckload of art, it's burning near the highway
And it's raging far out of control
And what the critics have cheered is now shattered and queered
And their noble reviews have been stewed on the road

[Chorus 1]
Yeah, a truckload of art, it's burning near the highway
Precious objects are scattered all over the ground
Oh, a terrible sight if a person were to see it
But there weren't nobody around