B. J. The D. J.
C A story 'bout a pal of mine Who worked down near the Georgia line G7 As D.J. in a little country station Everybody loved him dear 'Cause he played what they liked to hear C He built himself up quite a reputation At record hops he stayed out late And his mom would always wait G7 To see if he would make it home alive She warned against his loss of sleep And driving fast in that old heap C And that he had to be to work by five B.J. the D.J. G7 You're living much too fast And if you don't change your ways C Don't see how you can last Every morning just past four From the driveway he would roar G7 Overslept and he was late again Then at breakneck speed he'd drive To sign the station on at five C He had lots of records he must spin His mom sat by the radio Until his voice told her hello G7 She knew then that he'd made it there alright Then she'd say a little prayer He'd be safe while he was there C And she'd wait up for him again tonight Then one cold and rainy morn' All four tires were badly worn G7 But still he scratched off just as fast this time B.J. had a lot of nerve But he completely missed the curve C And he signed off down near the Georgia line Mom sat by the radio The voice she heard she didn't know G7 B.J.'d never been this late before But with the roads so bad and all She'd wait a while before she called C And then she heard the knock upon the door B.J. the D.J. G7 Only twenty-four A wreck at ninety miles an hour C He'll spin the hits no more