â"š¬í…"Iâ"š¬â"ž¢ll make you the corned beef on ryeâ"š¬?
Sheâ"š¬â"ž¢d sing with a gleam in her eye.
The headlights were burning,
The big wheels were turning,
Her sweetheart would come bye and bye.
When heâ"š¬â"ž¢d park his great semi off Route 64
Sheâ"š¬â"ž¢d blush with a sweet little sigh,
For at half past eleven heâ"š¬â"ž¢d walk in the door
And heâ"š¬â"ž¢d order her corned beef on rye.
â"š¬í…"Iâ"š¬â"ž¢ll make you the corned beef on ryeâ"š¬?
Sheâ"š¬â"ž¢d sing with a gleam in her eye.
The jukebox was blarinâ"š¬â"ž¢;
His soft eyes were starinâ"š¬â"ž¢,
The corned beef would come bye and bye.
All the drivers remember that night, so they say,
Sheâ"š¬â"ž¢d said her farewells to them all,
But when the hands on the clock reached a quarter past twelve
Her suitcase still stood in the hall.
And the hours passed by even as the trucks passed by out on the highway
And then two grim Highway Patrolmen came into the place,
Shook the rain from their hats and as the poor girl
Brought them their coffee, she overheard the words that they said.
â"š¬í…"Oh Curly, did you see that old diesel flattened out like your damned nose up by the predicament tonight ?â"š¬?
â"š¬í…"Well, dâ"š¬â"ž¢you know, he jack-knifed that son of a bitch slicker than owl shit!â"š¬?
â"š¬í…"Now gimme a little joe over here, honey.â"š¬?
â"š¬í…"Hey man, you donâ"š¬â"ž¢t suppose that he had a little olâ"š¬â"ž¢ hog waitinâ"š¬â"ž¢ on down the line somewhere, do you ?â"š¬?
â"š¬í…"Oh, oh, oh, hell, Curly, donâ"š¬â"ž¢t you know that them truckers they got to take up a little filly at every, every caf from here to Las Cruces!