Fireball Rolled A Seven Lyrics - Dave Dudley

Somewhere in South Carolina near a dirt track there's a shrine 

Erected to the memory of a little 'ole friend of mine 

A natural born dirt dauber, car racing was his game 

He rolled 'ole number 7 Fireball was his name 

With the makings of a honker and a roll of bailing wire 

He tied his hopes together and just set them tracks on fire 

Three hundred fifty on the hood; a big 7 on each door 

In his heart a will to win and his right foot on the floor 

His motto was a simple one "Stand on it and turn left. 

If someone's gonna beat you make him run" 

All he knew was ???? and always lead the rest 

Fireball rolled a seven and he won. 

He took the world 600, the old Atlanta 5 

Bristol, Richmond, Nashville, Daytona for the ride 

The hotdogs laid it on him. They'd draft, chart, and sweat. 

But Fireball rolled a seven, the kind that's hard to get. 

He had the pole at Darlington; he won it off the rail. 

And he run away at Charlotte, 600 miles of Hell. 

A slingshot sewed up Petty; he was out in front real fast. 

A checkered flag was in the bag; nobody would get past. 

He was flat out in that back shoot; only 3 laps from the start. 

When he saw a yellow bumper cross up and come apart. 

A rookie and a shaker, runnin' scared and lost it all. 

A hush fell on that crowd; number 7 took the wall. 

His old skidlid hangs in the hall, the little chargers gone, 

To save a friend he laid it on the line. 

His old poncho is rust and bound, but his memory still lives on. 

Fireball rolled a seven every time. 

Fireball rolled a seven every time.