Woke up face down in a cheap motel. Had a King James Bible, a musty smell. An' a Jim Beam bottle layin' in the bed. With a lipstick note sayin'. I hope he ain't dead.
Hey, Mr DJ, can I make a request. Somebody I love just up and left. An' if I know her, she'll drive all night alone. An' she just might have her radio on.
You been jawin' at me from across the bar. Like I messed with your woman or I stoled your car. What's your problem. I don't even know your name. You got a chip on your shoulder 'bout two-foot wide.
I still show up at five. Let everybody know I've arrived. I order up my usual bangles. I don't want no-one to thank. I'm not the guy they've come to learn to like.