Down on Highway 51

Buddy got no problem with raving on;
Old Dion, he’s gonna cover every one,
N’ Uncle Paul done bought the rights to every song;
Put ‘em on a new album, get right to number one
Yeah get right back up to number one

Yeah Buddy still raving on,
down on highway 51
Still lovin’ those songs
Way down in Lubbock where he belongs
Yeah back with the Baptists, where he came from

Dons’ posthumous mention in American Pie,
You just couldn’t make it through the night
plane just couldn’t stay up in the sky
People all over the world, they just sigh;
Poor old Buddy, just a lovely guy
Yeah just such a lovely guy

But Buddy still raving, down on highway 51
Still singing those songs
Way down Lubbock way, where he belongs
Yeah way down in Texas, where he came from

Mr Zimmerman was there; n’ maybe he had a vision,
Had a halo round his head, like some kind of magician;
Or an angel, some saintly scion;
The good, they die so young
Yeah Poor old Buddy, died so young

But young Buddy’s still raving, down on highway 51
Still singing those songs
Way down Lubbock way, where he belongs
Yeah way down, back where he came from

Yeah well February made Don shiver,
N’ Uncle Paul he read it in the Daily Mirror,
Plane crash, just out of Clear Lake Iowa;
Yeah 36, that’s the magic number
Live or die according to lifes lucky tumbler

But Buddy he’s still raving on, way down on highway 51
Still singing those songs
Down Clear Lake way, where he belongs
Yeah way down where he came from

Buddy and Mr Dimucci swappin’ shots,
From a half frozen bottle of scotch,
Spinning shit ‘bout crazy Ralphie Mooch;
Throwin’ ‘em back and sinking a few
Baptists in Lubbock, they couldn’t give a hoot
Too busy raking in that tourist loot;
Yeah raking in that morbid tourist loot

But Buddy he still raving on,
way way down on highway 51
Way down Clear Lake way, where he belongs
Yeah way down back where he came from

Heavy horn rimmed glasses, and startled eyes,
Don’t want to wait, just ain’t got that much time;
Black jackets and ascots look so fine,
Big Bopper’s in a leopard skin coat he calls Melvine,
N’ satin shirted Ritchie singing along all the time,
To the Chiffons ‘yeah he’s so fine’

But Buddy still raving on,
Way down yonder on highway 51
Still singing those songs
Way down Lubbock way, where he belongs
Yeah way down in Texas where he came from

Trees snapping in the wind, it’s 30 below;
Blowin’ a blizzard an’ starting to snow,
The bus is shot
Engine starting to blow;
Piston out through the block;
Old Buddy just keeps strummin’ his Gibson
n’ says ‘follow
Now we’re really starting to rock…’

Buddy still raving on,
Even though he’s gone
Yeah even though he’s gone
down on highway 51
yeah down on highway 51
Way down Clear Lake way, where he belongs
Yeah way down back where he came from

After the Surf Ballroom show,
A weeks worth of laundry, and it’s time to go;
400 miles, from Mason City to snowy, distant Fargo,
a seat next to the pilot, a new song to compose;
he never saw it comin’, that’s what they suppose
It was just his time to go
Yeah just his time to go

But Buddy, well he’ll still be raving on,
way way down, somewhere near highway 51
yeah somewhere near fateful 51
down Clear Lake way, right where he belongs
Yeah way down back where he came from

N’ Marie Elena, well she’ll still be waitin’,
At the Brevoort, on her own and hating;
listening and lonely, to Crying, n’ waiting, n’ hopin’
Or after midnight at Washington square park,
For Buddy to come and mend that achin’ heart

But Buddy, well he’ll still be raving on,
Old Buddy he got no problem to rave on;
Old Dion, he’s gonna cover every one,
N’ Uncle Paul he done bought the rights to every hit;
Even if, it hurt financially; just a little bit
Put ‘em on a new album, get right to number one
Yeah get Dion right up to number one
While old Buddy is down, way way down,
somewhere near highway 51
yeah somewhere near fateful 51
down Clear Lake way, right where he belongs
Yeah way down, right back where he started from.

Copyright © DC 2009