BJ The DJ

Stonewall Jackson


BJ THE DJ by Stonewall Jackson
A story 'bout a pal of mine, who worked out near the Georgia line A D.J. in a little country station Everybody loved him dear,cause he played what they liked to hear He built himself up quite a reputation
At record hops he'd stay out late,and his mom would always wait To see if he would make it home alive She warned about his loss of sleep,drivin' fast in that old heap And that he had to be to work by five
BJ the DJ,you're living much to fast And if you don't change your ways,don't see how you can last
Every morning just past four,from the driveway he would roar Overslept and he was late again But a break neck speeds he'd drive,to turn the station on at five He had lots of records he must spin

Mon sat by the radio until his voice told her hello She knew that he'd made it there alive Then she'd say a little prayer,he was safe cause he was there And she'd wait up for him again tonight
Then one cold and rainy morn,all four tires were badly worn But he scratched out and just as fast as time BJ had a lot of nerve,but he completely missed the curve And he signed off down near the Georgia line
Mom sat by the radio,the voice she heard she didn't know BJ's never been this late before But with the roads so bad and all She'd wait a while before she called Then she heard the knock upon the door
BJ the DJ,only twenty-four A wreck at ninety mules an hour He'd spin the hits no more
































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