Mon, Feb 13, 2006, 7:08pm (EST-3) firstname.lastname@example.org (jo4hn) doth
Amen. My kids all have cars newer and spiffier than my truck and I think
that they think that I'm a bit of a luddite. But they love me anyway.
I wouldn't call myself a "Ludite". However, there's nothing like
the sound of the secondaries kicking in on a Q-jet. You ain't gettin'
no sounds like that with no steenkin' fuel injection. My sons wanted a
Holley on the Luv. Didn't happen..
I'm busy now, can I ignore you some other time?
I'd heard a train a coming as i was rounding the bend,
I didn't know my old friend would likely meet his end,
so i popped another 6-pack and put the peddle to the floor,
i shure do like to hear that old Jimmy roar.
But then everything went silent,
i thought that i'd gone deaf,
my old hound dog looked at me and he was holding his breath,
the engine had died all right and the train was coming fast,
i feared that my old truck, did not have long to last.
(guitar strumming and picking here)
mama told me that old carberator would be the death of me,
that i needed fuel injection if i was ever to see,
that there is more to life than old trucks and cheap beer.
But ever since she died on that old hawg she used to ride,
i look at my chest tattoo with a whole lot of pride,
it says "I love my mama" for the whole world to see,
damn if only she were here to fix this dang truck for me.
I had an outboard motor in the back that I'd been meaning to trade for
it had been twenty years since it had even run.
Probably that dead weight that held me back,
if that old truck had been lighter it would have rolled right onto the
then the only thing left of me would've been one big loud smack.
now friends there is a lesson here,
don't you drink and drive,
spend your time making sawdust and drinking in your garage.
And kiss your dog and call your mama cause theys more than you deserve,
and if you hear a train a coming don't go around that curve.
(optional unfinshed verse- nothing rhymes with finally).
ohh, if only i owned a cell phone i wouldn't have had to walk back,
but it took me nearly 8 hours to walk the distance of one six pack.
if it hadn't been for a loggin truck that picked me up finally,
I would still be walking out there...
...rememberin' Muhammad Ali.
... tryin' to make it to Bali.
...thinkin' about Salvador Dali.
...and goin' to make it to Trixie's by golly.
holly, jolly, call ya, lolly, nally, molly, Olly (and Stan), Polly,
quality, really, solly, and exhaulity. All good for a country song.
hail to the blue yodeler,
MASSIVE suckage! We had a '67 Imperial with(naturally) the 440 wedge/4bbl.
Holley. Dam, but my SWMBO loved that thing. Young hot rods had trouble
understanding that she could beat them in the stop light races because it
would squat down and git on with it while they were sitting there making
The only road to success is always under construction.
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