I was out on
the west coast,
tryin' to make a buck.
Things didn't work out,
I was gettin' down on my luck.
I got tired of roamin'
and bummin' around,
so I started thumbin' back east
Toward my hometown
I made a whole lot of miles
the first few days
And I figured I'd be home in a week
If my luck don't act this way
But the third night I got stranded
way outside of town
At a cold, lonely crossroads,
rain was pouring down
Well, I was hungry and freezing
and I caught a chill
When the lights of a big old semi
topped the hill
Oh, I sure was glad to hear
them air brakes coming on
And I climbed in that cab
where I knew it'd be warm
At the wheel sat a big man,
he weighed about 210
He stuck out his hand and said with a grin,
Big Joe is the name
I told him mine, he said the name
of my rig is Fathom 309
Well I asked him why he
called his rig such a name
He said, son, this old Mac
put them all to shame.
Why, there ain't a driver
or a rig runnin' any line
That's seen nothin' but
taillights flat on 309.
Well, we rode and talked
the better part of the night
When the lights of a truck stop
came inside
He said I'm sorry son,
this is as far as you go
Cause I gotta make a turn
just on up the road
Well he tossed me a dime
as he pulled her in low
Said have yourself a hot cup
on old Big Joe Joe
and his rig roared out into that night
And nothing flashed,
he was plain out of sight
Well I went inside and I
ordered me a cup
I told the waiter,
Big Joe is setting me up
Oh, you could have heard a pin drop
It got deathly quiet,
and the waiter's face
turned kind of white.
Well, I said, wait a minute,
did I say something wrong?
I'm kind of halfway grand.
He said, no, no,
this happens every now and then.
Every driver in here knows Big Joe.
But son, let me tell you what happened
about ten years ago.
At the crossroads tonight,
where you flagged them down,
there was a busload of kids
coming from town.
And they was right in the middle
when Big Joe topped the hill.
He could have been slaughtered,
but he turned his wheels.
Well, Joe lost control,
went into a skid.
Gave his life to save that bunch of kids.
And there at that crossroads
was the end of the line
For Big Joe and Madam 309
But every now and then
Some hitchhiker comes by
Like you, Big Joe, give him a ride
Have another cup of coffee, son
And forget about the dine
Keep it as a souvenir
from Big Joe And Fathom 309
I don't pre -order.