B.J. The D.J.

A story ’bout a pal of mine

As D.J. in a little country station

He built himself up quite a reputation

To see if he would make it home alive

And that he had to be to work by five

You’re living much too fast

Don’t see how you can last

Overslept and he was late again

He had lots of records he must spin

She knew then that he’d made it there alright

And she’d wait up for him again tonight

But still he scratched off just as fast this time

And he signed off down near the Georgia line

B.J.’d never been this late before

And then she heard the knock upon the door

Only twenty-four

He’ll spin the hits no more