The milk-truck-driving lass

There are many ways of painting a picture. One way: I let one of the people in my novel 'PIV' sing a song. This one:

I’m a milk-truck-driving girl,

I’m a milk-truck-driving girl.

The early morning sunlight
paints a halo on the picture
My baby-daughter’s halo picture
pasted on the dash.
Ask the truckies, ask the farmers,
ask the helpers at the crèche,
They know me as the ever-working
milk-truck-driving lass.

I’m a milk-truck-driving girl,
I’m a milk-truck-driving girl.

The milk of seven herds of cows
is trailing at my back
The road bends round and up and round
and down and round and up.
The picture on the dashboard smiles:
just one more evening run.
My baby-girl is waiting
for her milk-truck-driving Mum.

I’m a milk-truck-driving girl,
I’m a milk-truck-driving girl.