(Shel Silverstein)
Well, I’ve been a trucker now for 20 years,
From the Charleston coast to the Jersey piers
An’ 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 101, 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 one of them joggers.
He was dressed like they do in baby blue, with shortie shorts
and a headband too
I yelled Sweetie, I bet that you are 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 L.A. 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,
But I 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.
I could’ve left him far behind but I played with him like a fish on a line
And I 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
So I kicked 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’ poo poon pucker prooon!!
Then he yelled out, I hope you’re set, cuz 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’
And I hope that losin’ the race was not too shockin’
Ya see, my Dad says, ‘Heaven ain’t no place to run’ ,
I try to be an obedient son,
So I got to 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 them race car nuts and Harley hoggers
And 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.
Hey, there’s one now
Hey, everybody hangin’ in there
It wasn’t...
