You heard 'bout the legend of Jesse James, an' John Henery just to mention some names.
Well there's a truck drivin' legend in the south today.
A man called Bandit, from Atlanta, Gee-A
Every gear jammer knows his name.
They swear he got ice blood runin' in his veins.
A foot like lead, and nerves like steel.
He's gonna go to glory ridin' an 18-wheel.
Oh, boy!
He left Atlanta back in '63.
Haulin' him a load up to Tennessee.
He hit Mount Eagle in a drivin' rain,
so hard he couldn't even see the passing lane.
Well he started down the grade when he lost a gear.
He hit them breaks and found he had no air.
The Mount Eagle grade is steep and long,
and everybody that seen it thought the Bandit was gone.
Oh Son!
Well his truck jack-knifed, turned completly round,
he was coming down backwards 'bout the speed of sound.
Alot of folks seen him, and they all say
he had his head out the window yelling, "Clear the way!"
Well he got to the bottom, safe and sound,
and everybody asked Bandit how he made it down.
He said folks when the truck picked up too much speed I just runned along beside it and drug my feet.
You heard the legend of Jesse James, an' John Henery just to mention some names.
Well there's a truck drivin' legend in the south today.
A man called Bandit, from Atlanta, Gee-A
Every gear jammer knows his name.
They swear he's got ice blood runin' in his veins.
A foot like lead, and nerves like steel.
He's going up to glory ridin' an 18-wheel.
Oh tell 'em!
Talk to me Guitar.
