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lirik lagu tommy hill music festival - white knight

down 75 or 85, or i~20 t’other way
turn your squelch to the right, and in the night, you’ll hear some good buddy say
“breaker breaker, got a picture~taker, ol’ smokey’s at 43”
it’s that j~panese toy, the trucker’s joy, that everybody calls cb
yeah, citizen’s band, keeps you up to date
with fender~benders and the tijuana taxis
and all them bears out there, flip~floppin’

now ahead of your children and ahead of your wife
on the list of the ten best things in life
your cb’s gotta rate right around number four
‘course, beavers, and hot biscuits, and merle haggard come one, two, three, you know

well, i’s loaded down, comin’ outta lake city
i’s checkin’ out seat~covers, young and pretty
when all of a sudden there come a call
over my cb, ringin’ wall~to~wall
said, “clover double~nickels as you hit the ridge
’cause there’s a smokey picture~taker t’other side of the bridge”

“oh mercy, ‘ppreciate that, good buddy
what’s your handle there, come on?
got any county mounties out there prowlin’, come on?”
and he said

“ten~four, back door
put the pedal to the metal and let it roar
hammer down to macon town
gonna see my momma, sure
well, the bears are gone
let’s bring it on
the georgia line’s out of sight
pulled outta richmond town last sat~rday night
and my handle is the white knight
how ’bout it?”
“alright, white knight, hammer down
you got the mean machine here”

was a~streakin’, my needle was a~peakin’
a~right around seventy~nine
that ol’ diesel juice was a~gettin’ loose
and everything was fine
but wall~to~wall, i got a call
front door, big bear trapper
said, “break one nine, good buddy of mine
you got a smokey in a plain white wrapper”

well, i jammed my stick, i lost twenty quick
you could hear them gears a~tearin’
i got passed by a beaver in a camaro
i was cruisin’ alone, and goin’ so slow
i could count every b~tton on that frilly blouse she was wearin’
‘course there weren’t but one

“hey there, super trooper
yeah, that’s the crafty smokey over there with a cb of his own
hey white knight, let’s slide one on the super trooper, come on?”

“10–4, back door
put the pedal to the metal, whatcha waitin’ for?
that old white can’t stay in sight
gonna leave you here and say no more
how ’bout it?”
“whoa now, buddy, that’s fightin’ talk
i’d get up there and blow your doors off”

well, i hammered down like i had wings
little gravels in my wheels goin’ ping, ping, ping
’bout the time i hit ninety~two
saw somethin’ flashin’ in my rearview
thought to myself, “that can’t be true”
but there it was, ol’ blue, blue, blue

uh~oh, bubble~gum machine done hit the jackpot

well, i could see that bear, laughin’ big
hangin’ in tight on the back of my rig
right there and then it came to me wall~to~wall
mm~hm

so in that cold dark georgia night
in the shadows of smokey bear’s blue light
i decided to make me just one more cb call

“breaker one nine, for the super trooper
hey there, smokey ol’ buddy, tell me if i’m right
are you my front door? are you the white knight? come on?”
and he said
“10–4, back door
you’re in a heap of trouble, boy, that’s for sure
gonna read you your rights, and treat you fair
pull over there with your rockin’ chair
want you boys to know each other real well
’cause you gonna be sharin’ the same jail cell
you make twelve cotton~pickers i’ve caught tonight
from the front door of that white knight
hh~hh~hh~hh~hh~hh~hh~hh~hh
how ’bout it?
hh~hh~hh~hh~hh~hh~hh~hh~hh
forty miles over the speed limit
you boys gonna be here a spell
hh~hh~hh~hh~hh~hh~hh~hh~hh
hh~hh~hh~hh~hh~hh~hh~hh~hh
heh~heh~heh~heh”

that’s it, cotton~pickers, i’ve done been grounded
my tail’s in jail, my rig impounded
so when you’re comin’ through the georgia night
don’t ever get no front door called the white knight

no sir, wind up in the pokey with smokey
i’m gonna pull that old cb thing out by the wires
i don’t care if it is a johnson

- lirik lagu tommy hill music festival

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