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Bj The Dj chords

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Strumming
There is no strumming pattern for this song yet. and get +5 IQ
C
A story 'bout a pal of mine

 
Who worked down near the Georgia line

                            G7
As D.J. in a little country station

 
Everybody loved him dear

 
'Cause he played what they liked to hear

                                  C
He built himself up quite a reputation


 

At record hops he stayed out late

 
And his mom would always wait

                                 G7
To see if he would make it home alive

 
She warned against his loss of sleep 

 
And driving fast in that old heap

                                 C
And that he had to be to work by five


 
 
B.J. the D.J.

                       G7
You're living much too fast

 
And if you don't change your ways

                      C
Don't see how you can last

 
Every morning just past four

 
From the driveway he would roar

                          G7
Overslept and he was late again

 
Then at breakneck speed he'd drive

 
To sign the station on at five

                               C
He had lots of records he must spin


 
 
His mom sat by the radio 

 
Until his voice told her hello

                                       G7
She knew then that he'd made it there alright

 
Then she'd say a little prayer

 
He'd be safe while he was there

                                  C
And she'd wait up for him again tonight


 
 
Then one cold and rainy morn'

 
All four tires were badly worn

                                             G7
But still he scratched off just as fast this time

 
B.J. had a lot of nerve

 
But he completely missed the curve

                                       C
And he signed off down near the Georgia line


 
 
Mom sat by the radio

 
The voice she heard she didn't know

                            G7
B.J.'d never been this late before

 
But with the roads so bad and all

 
She'd wait a while before she called

                                      C
And then she heard the knock upon the door 


 
 
B.J. the D.J.

            G7
Only twenty-four

 
A wreck at ninety miles an hour

                       C
He'll spin the hits no more
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