Our Old Friend
It was about the middle of
Back to Georgia a second time,
Same old Chevy that crossed the U.S. twice,
S.Y. had to go, made up mind.
We got seventy-six miles past El Paso,
When one of those lifters broke off,
Tried tying it up as we did before,
But this time it did not pay off.
Night spent in the middle of the desert,
Finally someone came by this place,
A wrecker towed us to the next town,
Could not get a part to replace.
Was then the old Chevy gave up the ghost,
Old friend could not make another tour,
Still had many more miles ahead of us,
With no way to go, stuck for sure.
Someone had driven a nineteen twenty-nine,
Old car in from Washington State,
Sixty dollars for the old Studebaker,
Put us back on the road first rate.
Riding high in the old Studebaker,
It was then she began to choke,
We found out she had an old vacuum pump.
Continue story next time, no joke.