JOGGER & MY TRUCK
ONE OF THEM INTERSTATE RUNNERS
Well, I've been a trucker now for twenty years,
From the Charleston coast to the Jersey piers.
Sharin' the road with the race car nuts and loggers,
Sunday drivers, scouts on hikes, Hells Angels on Harley bikes,
I never met a roader I didn't like, 'cept them joggers.
One day I'm rollin' down 1-0-1, I got 18-wheels and a 14-ton,
Radio playin' a good ol' country rocker.
The day was surely a trucker's dream,
The sky was sunny and the air was clean,
When up ahead on the road I seen a skinny, sweatin' jogger!
Well, he was dressed like they do in baby blue,
With shortie shorts and a headband too,
I yelled, "Hey, Sweetie I bet that you're the hit of the men's room locker.
Well, I'm a runnin' late with an overload, so get your Adidas off a this road,
I'm LA bound and I don't slow down for dead raccoons or joggers!"
Well, without breakin' stride or losin' poise,
He said, "You and that rig sure make some noise,
Can't talk now cause I'm racin' against the clocker.
But it's just nine miles to Forkers Leap, and if you ain't afraid to race that heap,
We'll see how that ol' rig holds up against a super jogger!"
Race?! I must be hearin' wrong,
The boy's been runnin' in the sun too long,
The only place he's a racin' to is a doctor!
But before I could say 'Hey, thank ya no,' that fool yells, "Ready, get set, go!"
And the race is on, and we're off and gone, me and that maniac jogger.
Well, now I could've left him far behind,
But I played with him like a fish on a line,
Stayed about a half a mile behind that sucker.
Then I pushed her up to forty-five, and he sees me comin' and he starts to fly,
I pushed her to sixty and shift to high and finally catch that jogger!
And it wasn't easy...
Now I'm doin' eighty and I turned to check,
And he's stayin' right with me, neck in neck!
His hearts a thumpin' like an engine goin' 'Arga, ackka, quacka,'
Then he said, "Hey!, I hope you're set, cause I ain't shifted into second yet."
Then he unwinds and leaves me behind eaten the dust of a jogger!
Then I see him a joggin' up into the sky,
And he yells, "Hey! Thanks for the exercise,
I hope that losin' this race was not too shockin'.
You see, my dad's heaven, and no place to run,
I try to be an obedient son, so I come down to earth to do my joggin'."
Well, that's the story take it or leave it,
My trucker buddies, they believe it,
So do those race car nuts, and Harley hoggers.
Now, I'm still drivin' much the same,
'Cept I don't call nobody names,
And, I tip my hat each time I pass one of them good old joggers!
And I say, "Hey, good buddy, can I get ya sumpthin?
How about a little Gatorade? Naw, that's all right.
I got plenty of time."
WAS COMPOSED AND RECORDED BY BOBBY BARE IN 1983.
This page was last updated: December 30, 2012
DON WILLIAMS-INTERSTATE TRUCKER FOR DECADES WITH HIS TWIN BROTHER, RON.
KILLED BY HIS OWN DRIVEWAY BY AN
ONCOMING TRUCK HE DIDN'T SEE.