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