The White Knight
Composer(s): Jay Huguely
Performer(s): Cletus Maggard & The Citizens Band



Down on Seventy-Five or Ninety-Five or I-Twenty t'other way
Turn your squelch to the right and in the night
you'll hear some cotton-picker say
"Breaker breaker, got a picture-taker, ol' Smokey's at forty-three!"
It's that Japanese toy, the trucker's joy that everybody calls CB
Yeah, Citizens Band
Keeps you up to date with the fender-benders and the Tijuana taxis
and all them bears out there a-flip-floppin'

Now ahead o' your children and ahead o' your wife 
on the list of the ten best things in life
Your CB's gotta rate right around number four
'Course, beavers 'n hot biscuits 'n Merle Haggard come one-two-three, you know

Well I was loaded down comin' outta Lake City 
checkin' out seat covers all young and pretty
My wife was right and I settled for the night
that ol' concrete boulevard a-feelin' right
My ol' buddy in the back was a-gettin' some sack
I was gonna bring it on to Macon 'fore I climbed in the back
Yeah, I had all my eight-tracks by my side from Dolly Parton to Charley Pride
My stereo a-rattlin' on the dash with Johnny Cash and all that good trash
Yeah, culture with a side order of ritz!

When all of a sudden there come a squall over my CB ringin' wall to wall
Said "Go to double nickels as you hit the ridge
'Cause there's a smokey picture-taker t'other side o' the bridge!"
"Oh, mercy! 'Preciate that, good buddy
Uh, what's your handle there, come on? Come on?"
Mm-hmm...
Well they was nary a sound, and I was bound to think he done switched over to four
When wall to wall there come a call in a voice you couldn't ignoure

And he said
"Ten-four, back door
Put the pedal to the metal and let it roar
Hammer down to Macon Town, gonna see my mama, sure
Well the Bears are gone, let's bring it on, the Georgia line's way outta sight
Pulled outta Richmond Town last Saturday night, and my handle is the Whight Knight
How 'bout it?"

"Hey ol' buddy, I'm the Mean Machine. What's your twenty and what's your eighteen?
Grease it up and shoout me some more
'Cause I sure believe you're my front door! Come on?"

"Ten-four, back door 
Put the pedal to the metal and let it roar
Hammer down to Macon Town, gonna see my mama, sure
Well a GMC my eighteen be, and the last mile marker was a fifty-three
Pulled outta Richmond Town last Saturday night, and my handle is the Whight Knight
How 'bout it?"

"All right, White Knight, hammer down!"
Well there I was a-streakin', my needle was a-peakin' right around seventy-nine
That ol' diesel juice was a-gettin' loose and everything was fine!
Oh yeah! Sing, Dolly! Sing, Loretta! Sing it, darlin's! Mm-hmm

When wall to wall, I got a call from a front door big bear trapper
He said, "Break one-nine, good buddy o' mine
you got a smokey in a plain white wrapper!"
Well I jammed my stick and lost twenty quick, you could hear them gears a-tearin'
I was passed by a beaver in a Camaro, and I was cruisin' along a-goin' so slow
I could count every button on that frilly blouse she was a-wearin'
'Course, they weren't but one

"Hey there, Super Trooper"
Yeah, that's that crafty smokey over there with a CB o' his very own
"Who, me? Noooooo, Smokey! Got grapefruit comin from F-L-A
Can't shake them up, boy 
Nooo, goin' double nickels all the way!
Hey, White Knight! Hey, front door
Let's slide one off o' Super Trooper here and show him what's happenin' up there
Come on?"

And he said,
"Ten-four, back door 
Put the pedal to the metal and let it roar
Hammer down to Macon Town, gonna see my mama, sure
Well the bears are gone, let's bring it on, the Georgia line's way outta sight
Gotta get to Macon 'fore the middle o' the night and my handle is the Whight Knight
How 'bout it?"

Well I hammered down 'cause I figured that clown knew more about it than me
I was puttin' it to it, and before I knew it I was doin' 'round eighty-three
When I got a call just got my gall 
White Knight was a-talkin' to me, and he said

"Ten-four, back door 
Put the pedal to the metal, what'cha waitin' for?
If that ol' white can't stay in sight, gonna leave you here 'n say no more
How 'bout it?"

"Whoooa now, ol' buddy, that's fightin' talk! 
Now say things about my wife or my religion 
but don't go gettin' nasty 'bout my rig now!
I'll come up there 'n blow your doors off!"
Sing that mad tune there, Buck!

Well I hammered down like I had wings
little gravels in my wheels goin' ping-ping-ping
I was hittin' ninety with a might heavy load 
blew a Greyhound Bus clean off o' the road
'Bout the time I hit ninety-two I saw somethin' flashin' in my rear view
Thoght to myself, "That can't be true," but there it was a-goin' blue-blue-blue!

Uh-oh... Bubble gum machine done hit the jackpot!
That's what it was, big ol' redneck whip right there on Smokey's car
goin' twangy-twangy-twangy-twangy
Play me a sad song there, Johnny

Well I could see that bear a-laughin' big
Just a-hangin' in tight on the back o' my rig
When all of a sudden it come to me wall to wall
So in that cold dark Georgia night in the shadow o' Smokey Bear's blue light
I decided to make just one more CB call...

"Break one-nine for the Super Trooper
Hey there, Super Trooper, tell me if I'm right
Are you my front door?
Are you the White Knight? Come on?"

And he said
"Ten-four, back door 
You in a heap o' trouble, boy, fer sure
Gonna read you your rights and treat you fair 
just pull over there with yer rockin' chair
Want you boys to know each other real well
'Cause you gonna be sharin' the same jail cell
You make twelve cotton-pickers I've caught tonight
Runnin' front door as that White Knight! [snicker]
How 'bout it? [snicker]
Forty miles over the speed limit; you boys gon' be here a while!" [snicker]

That's it, cotton-pickers, I've done been grounded 
My tail in jail and my rig impounded
Called the boss for bond in Big A Town; he said 
"You got in there, you get out, clown!
You lookin' for more than a bond, boy, you ain't got no job!"

I said, "Well boss, it's been nice doin' business with you
Just keep it between the ditches
Sevens, threes, 'n all them good numbers to you
'n boss, if you would do me one favor
I... I wonder if you'd call my wife and tell I her won't be there
Saturday to take the kids to no Little League nowhere now
Tell her maybe she'd better look into that job what she was offered, 'n
Tell her just go ahead and get my friend a leave of action to the VFW

"And boss, before my replacement takes this rig out
Tell him when he's travellin' through the dark Georgia night
Don't never get no fromt door called the White Knight!
No sir, 'n wind up in the pokey with Smokey?
Best thing you can do with that ol' thing is yank it out by the wires
I don't care if it is a Johnson
Sing me a sad tune there, Johnny

"Oh Lordy mercy! Where am I gonna get two hundred 'n fifty green
stamps to get outta this pokey?
Oh Lordy..."