Speedball Tucker — текст песни (Jim Croce)

I drive a broke down rig on "may-pop" tires
Forty foot of overload
A lot of people say that I`m crazy
Because I don`t know how to take it slow
I got a broomstick on the throttle
I got her opened up and head right down
Nonstop back to Dallas
Poppin` them West Coast turn-arounds

Chorus:
And they call me Speedball
Speedball Tucker
Terror of the highways
And all them other truckers
Will tell you that the boy is mad
To be drivin` a rig like that

You know the rain may blow
The snow may snow
And the turnpikes they may freeze
But they don`t bother ol` Speedball
He goin` any damn way he please
He got a broomstick on the throttle
To keep his throttle foot a-dancin` round
With a cupful of cold black coffee
And a pocketful of West Coast turn-arounds

Chorus

One day I looked into my rear view mirror
And a-comin` up from behind
There was a Georgia State policeman
And a hundred dollar fine
Well he looked me in the eye as he was writin` me up
"driver you been Blind?"
"Ninety-nine was the route you were on it ewas not the speed limit sign."