Speedball Tucker - 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

    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


    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
    And said "Driver, you been flyin'."
    And "Ninety-five is the route you were on
    It was not the speed limit sign."


    Marco Giunco
    Work Basket Music Words