Old Route 66

Now, I’m a poor Oakie

and I’m heading out west.

I’m pulling a long trailer

and my car’s doing its best.

We hit a long mountain

and she began to boil.

She blew a head gasket

and it started dripping oil.

The wheels is out of balance,

she shimmies and she shakes.

But it keeps the young’uns quiet,

when they’re awake.

We got her loaded heavy

and the springs are way down.

If I make it to the top,

I’m sure it can go down.

The dog’s quit barking

and the chickens are quiet.

I hope I get there

by next Friday night.

The highway is open

and we’re still a-comin’.


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