Just Drive It Back

“Just Drive It Back”

By: Dillon, Devon, Conner & Caleb

Genre: Southern Rock / Country Comedy

Theme: A long-distance nightmare with a leaking truck, and Kurt givin’ the worst advice possible

⸻

We was two states deep, sun beatin’ down,

Truck 64 started bleedin’ on the ground.

Brake line hissin’ like a busted snake,

I said, “This rig’s got a soul to take.”

Called Kurt up, said, “Boss, this ain’t right.”

He said, “Well hell, just don’t hit the brakes tonight.”

I’m white-knuckled, leanin’ into fate,

This ain’t a move, it’s a high-speed escape.

⸻

“Just drive it back,” said Kurt on the line,

While the pedal hit floor and we ran outta time.

One headlight, no signal, duct tape dreams,

In the middle of a hill with hydraulic screams.

Yeah, “just drive it back,” like that’s all good—

In a deathtrap truck with a steel frame hood.

⸻

I’m in the back with boxes to my ears,

Truck rattlin’ like it’s facin’ its fears.

Every turn feel like we bout to slide,

Asked Kurt again, “Sure we shouldn’t tow this ride?”

He laughed and said, “You boys are tough,”

Then hung up fast — guess that’s enough.

If I don’t make it, tell my mom I tried,

And tell the DOT I’m traumatized.

⸻

I’m prayin’ on curves like it’s Sunday mass,

Clutchin’ the wheel with my whole dumb ass.

I saw smoke, Caleb saw sparks,

Devon yellin’ “It’s leakin’ in arcs!”

Tried to stop for gas, rolled right on through,

I said, “God take the wheel,” but He said, “Not you.”

I’d call it a miracle if we hit the lot,

‘Cause the brakes are a myth and the engine’s hot.

⸻

“Just drive it back,” Kurt said from his chair,

While we makin’ funeral plans in the thin air.

No hazard lights, no power steer,

Just a prayer and a bottle of half-flat beer.

Yeah, “just drive it back,” what a plan from hell,

Kurt’s at home while we risk a jail cell.

⸻

I tried to stop, the truck just laughed,

Skidded past three signs and a cow path.

Ate a sandwich with one knee up,

While Dillon screamed, “We’re gonna blow up!”

I’ve seen war, storms, and Texas hail,

But drivin’ this rig is my holy grail.

I’ll never trust a quote or Kurt’s advice,

Next time I’m ridin’ with a box of mice.

⸻

“Just drive it back,” we heard it again,

Over brakes that squeal like they lost a friend.

Trailer swayin’, tires bald,

Kurt said it’s “fine”—that’s the real damn call.

Yeah, “just drive it back,” and pray real tight—

Hope this move don’t end in a courtroom fight.