Jim Croce Speedball Tucker Lyrics
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' in 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 d___ 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 and said,"Driver you been blind?
Ninety-five was the route you were on, it was not the speed limit sign."
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