A story about a pal of mine
That worked down near the Georgia line
As DJ in a little country station
Everybody loved him dear
He played what they liked to hear
Built himself up quite a reputation
At the record hops he'd stay there late
And his mom would always wait
To see if he had made it home alive
Warned the guest he'd lost his sleep
Driving fast in that old heap
And that he had to be at work by five
DJ the DJ
You're living much too fast
And his mom would always wait
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
Then at breakneck speed he'd drive
Signed the station on at five
He had lots of records he must spin
His mom would always wait

Mom said by the radio
Until his voice told her hello
She knew then that he'd made it there all right
And then she'd say a little prayer
He'd be safe while 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 still he said bye bye
And he scratched off just as fast as time
Well, BJ had a lot of nerve
He completely missed that curve
He signed off down near the Georgia line
And mom said by the radio
The voice she heard she didn't know
BJ'd never been this late before
But the weather oh so bad




And all she'd wait a while before she'd call
And then she heard that knock up on the door
BJ the DJ only twenty-four
A wreck at ninety miles an hour
He'll spin the hits no more