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The Hitchhiker

de Tom T. Hall

is autobiographical, but I become the driver instead of the hitch-hiker.
I took poetic license here.

I don't know why it is every time I take a trip
It's always raining somewhere down the line
This particular night it was in Prestonsburg Kentucky
I stopped to give a country boy a ride.

I saw him running toward the car he carried an old suitcase
A cigarette was dangling from his lips
He threw the suitcase in the back and as he got inside
He said I'm sorry but I'm awful wet.

I said where are you headed kid and he said to Louisville
Said he had an uncle there who ran the store
Said his daddy died three weeks ago and they didn't own the place
And they said he couldn't live there anymore.

He said his education was that he could read and write
He quit school the time his dad got hurt
Ain't much goes on in Prestonsburg and he was seventeen
And he had to go some place to find some work.

He talked about a girl whose father had a lotta money
He said he'd send and get her if he could
His daddy taught him all there was about tobacco farming
And he said he played the banjo pretty good.

We stopped to get a sandwich and the waitress brought the menu
And I noticed that he read the prices first
He ordered him a hot dog with a lots of table ketchup
And water seemed to satisfy his thirst.

Well it took awhile but I insisted that I'll pay the ticket
Excused myself and went out to the car
He came out got in the car and he handed me a quarter
And he said you left this layin' on the bar.

I dropped him off in Lexington and drove down to Bowling Green
And I thought boy you'll never make without help
And then I got to thinking about the days when I was younger
And I started out the same darn way myself.

--- Instrumental ---

Well, I don't know why it is every time I take a trip
It's always raining somewhere down the line...

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