He was raised in a Texas tavern
A-with a six pack in his hand
Lord, he roamed all around Pasadena
Until he joined that traveling band
Now he's head, head of transportation
He sells them books and them records every night
If anyone says they don't like our music
Well, Jr. P., they're gonna have to fight
He used to be a rodeo clown
'Til an old bull stomped him in the ground
He still remembers the people clapping their hands
Now he quit the bulls and he loves our band
Ernest Tubb was his hero
Judy Ville, Lord, Lord, was his gal
Drinking beer, well that's his past time
And Miller Lite is his pal
When you see a long tall cowboy
A couple of breaks a-mending in his bones
You can bet your bottom dollar
What you see is Jr. P. Jones
Now this is my song about our driver
And his name is Jr. P. Jones
