We is screamin' through the valley Where the Nishnabotna flows Through the mud and crud and cornfields Where the mari-ju-wana grows 'Cross the railroad tracks of Persia Down the hills and up the dale Had a CJ-5 with a four-wheel drive And Smokey on my tail.
Well, he picked me up at exit 12 On the I-six-eighty ramp I was doin' 67 per When I rumbled through his trap He commenced to whirl his flashin' lights And he made his siren wail I slipped on down to four-wheel drive With Smokey on my tail
Now I got racin' stripes and dual pipes And Smokey's got a Ford Got a mill with a four pot carb, you know But Smokey's stroked and bored Well, the chase was on, but I had the edge With a rig that'll never fail Got a CJ-5 with a four-wheel drive And Smokey on my tail
Yeah, he was.
Well, I dropped on down to granny low And I made a hard right turn My big ol' fat Commando tires Went slashin' through the corn Well, the tassels blew And the kernels flew And it looked like yella hail Just cookin' alive in a four-wheel drive With Smokey on my tail
Well, we went screamin' through the valley Where the Nishnabotna flows Through the mud and crud and cornfields Where the mari-ju-wana grows 'Cross the railroad tracks of Persia Up the hills and down the dales My CJ-5 with four-wheel drive And Smokey on my tail.
[Imagine a series of comic-style thought balloons.]
Look out, now. Here he come.
Oh, we gonna get it on now.
(Don't hit that fella with the banjo.)
We gonna swim this here creek now, Smokey. [Pronounced "crick", of course.]
Yard wide and a foot deep.
"Nishnabota River", they call it.
Might haveta winch out.
Gonna do a wheelie on that there gopher mound now, Smokey.
Can you dig it, Smokey?
Got four on the floor and four in the air on that one, didn't we?
Goodness gracious. 'Bout ta bust my shocks.
[Back to our regularly-scheduled rhyming. Add the sound of wailing sirens.]
Well, that Jeep of mine made Smokey whine His rig was made of lead He was mired in fourteen feet of mud So he radioed ahead I pulled up onto the blacktop Went crashin' on through the rail Sakes alive! I had twenty-five more Smokeys on my tail!
Now I had racin' stripes and dual pipes And Smokey had a Ford Had a mill with a four pot carb, you know But Smokey's stroked and bored Well, the race was on, but I had the edge With a rig that'll never fail Got a CJ-5 with a four-wheel drive Settin' out back a' the jail
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We is screamin' through the valley Where the Nishnabotna flows Through the mud and crud and cornfields Where the mari-ju-wana grows 'Cross the railroad tracks of Persia Down the hills and up the dale Had a CJ-5 with a four-wheel drive And Smokey on my tail.
Well, he picked me up at exit 12 On the I-six-eighty ramp I was doin' 67 per When I rumbled through his trap He commenced to whirl his flashin' lights And he made his siren wail I slipped on down to four-wheel drive With Smokey on my tail
Now I got racin' stripes and dual pipes And Smokey's got a Ford Got a mill with a four pot carb, you know But Smokey's stroked and bored Well, the chase was on, but I had the edge With a rig that'll never fail Got a CJ-5 with a four-wheel drive And Smokey on my tail
Yeah, he was.
Well, I dropped on down to granny low And I made a hard right turn My big ol' fat Commando tires Went slashin' through the corn Well, the tassels blew And the kernels flew And it looked like yella hail Just cookin' alive in a four-wheel drive With Smokey on my tail
Well, we went screamin' through the valley Where the Nishnabotna flows Through the mud and crud and cornfields Where the mari-ju-wana grows 'Cross the railroad tracks of Persia Up the hills and down the dales My CJ-5 with four-wheel drive And Smokey on my tail.
[Imagine a series of comic-style thought balloons.]
Look out, now. Here he come.
Oh, we gonna get it on now.
(Don't hit that fella with the banjo.)
We gonna swim this here creek now, Smokey. [Pronounced "crick", of course.]
Yard wide and a foot deep.
"Nishnabota River", they call it.
Might haveta winch out.
Gonna do a wheelie on that there gopher mound now, Smokey.
Can you dig it, Smokey?
Got four on the floor and four in the air on that one, didn't we?
Goodness gracious. 'Bout ta bust my shocks.
[Back to our regularly-scheduled rhyming. Add the sound of wailing sirens.]
Well, that Jeep of mine made Smokey whine His rig was made of lead He was mired in fourteen feet of mud So he radioed ahead I pulled up onto the blacktop Went crashin' on through the rail Sakes alive! I had twenty-five more Smokeys on my tail!
Now I had racin' stripes and dual pipes And Smokey had a Ford Had a mill with a four pot carb, you know But Smokey's stroked and bored Well, the race was on, but I had the edge With a rig that'll never fail Got a CJ-5 with a four-wheel drive Settin' out back a' the jail
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