The Radio Played

The old Ford truck was dustin’ the gravel roads that day I was listening to some pounding seventies hits My second bottle was about empty by my thirst Nothing much else to do on a hot dry southern day But drive, drink, and listen to the AM radio Cruising the hills, hairpin curves, and old wooden bridges On this particular day, I was feeling just fine A pint of vodka, grapefruit juice, and a little weed Lived so far back in the woods, that was my company A troubled, poor loner, with an old blue pick-up truck I had driven those back roads over a hundred times A stop at a bootlegger and a lovely dream ride This particular day, the tie rod end just broke loose The steering wheel spun like a top in my fumbling hands I dived in the floorboard as we went end over end My Ford and I landed stuck between two cedar trees I remember the quit ‘cept for the radio Doors were stuck, so I kicked out the windshield and crawled out After climbing about halfway up the embankment I heard the radio still playing back in the truck It was a Lynyrd Skynyrd classic, my favorite “Gimme Back My Bullets” So, I went back down the hill to where the old Ford sat I climbed on the hood and reached through the shattered windshield I shut the ignition off and pocketed the keys As I started back up the embankment, I just laughed Didn’t matter if the key was on, the truck was totaled When I reached the road, I flagged an approaching sedan It was two girls from school looking real scared when they stopped Trying to look my best with blood running down my face I said, “You ladies headed my way, by any chance?” They looked at each other and one of them said, “Where’s that?” Brushing the broken glass out of my long raven hair I dusted off my shirt and the tucked it into my jeans Looking back down at my old truck pinned between those trees I bent down and looked in the driver’s window and smiled “Well it don’t matter babe, as long as it’s not here.” Ended up walking home that day, laughing all the way © Copyrights G. Jones 2008