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Balada de Thunder Road

Tex Williams

Ballad Of Thunder Road

Let me tell a story, I can tell it all
'Bout the mountain boy who ran illegal alcohol
His daddy made the whiskey, the son, he drove the load
And when his engine roared, they called the highway Thunder Road

Sometimes into Asheville, sometimes Memphis town
The revenuers chased him, but they couldn't run him down
Each time they thought they had him, his engine would explode
And he'd go by like they were standing still on Thunder Road

Thunder, thunder over Thunder Road
Thunder was his engine and white lightning was his load
Moonshine, moonshine quenched the Devil's thirst
The law, they never got him 'cause the Devil got him first

On the first of April, 1954
The federal man sent word he'd better make his run no more
He said two hundred agents were covering the state
Whichever road he'd try to take, they'd get him sure as fate

Son: His daddy told him: Make this run your last
Your tank is filled with hundred-proof, you're all tuned up and gassed
Now, don't take any chances and if you can't get through
I'd rather have you back again than all that Mountain Dew

Thunder, thunder over Thunder Road
Thunder was his engine and white lightning was his load
Moonshine, moonshine quenched the Devil's thirst
The law, they never got him 'cause the Devil got him first

Roaring out of Harlan, revving up his mill
He shot the gap at Cumberland and screamed by Maynardville
With G-men on his tail light, road blocks up ahead
The mountain boy took roads that even angels feared to tread

Blazing right through Knoxville, out on Kingston Pike
Then right outside of Bearden, there they made the fatal strike
He left the road at ninety, that's all there is to say
The Devil got the moonshine and the mountain boy that day

Thunder, thunder over Thunder Road
Thunder was his engine and white lightning was his load
Moonshine, moonshine quenched the Devil's thirst
The law, they never got him 'cause the Devil got him first

The law, they never got him 'cause the Devil got him first

Balada de Thunder Road

Déjame contarte una historia, te la puedo contar
Sobre el chico de la montaña que corría con alcohol ilegal
Su papá hacía el whisky, el hijo, él manejaba la carga
Y cuando su motor rugía, llamaban a la carretera Thunder Road

A veces hacia Asheville, a veces a Memphis
Los agentes lo perseguían, pero no podían atraparlo
Cada vez que pensaban que lo tenían, su motor explotaba
Y pasaba como si ellos estuvieran parados en Thunder Road

Trueno, trueno sobre Thunder Road
El trueno era su motor y el rayo blanco su carga
Licor, licor apagaba la sed del Diablo
La ley, nunca lo atrapó porque el Diablo lo atrapó primero

El primero de abril de mil novecientos cincuenta y cuatro
El hombre federal envió un aviso, que mejor no hiciera más su carrera
Dijo que doscientos agentes cubrían el estado
Cualquiera que fuera el camino que intentara tomar, lo atraparían seguro como el destino

Hijo: Su papá le dijo: Haz que esta carrera sea la última
Tu tanque está lleno de cien grados, estás listo y con gasolina
Ahora, no tomes riesgos y si no puedes pasar
Prefiero que regreses que todo ese Mountain Dew

Trueno, trueno sobre Thunder Road
El trueno era su motor y el rayo blanco su carga
Licor, licor apagaba la sed del Diablo
La ley, nunca lo atrapó porque el Diablo lo atrapó primero

Rugiendo fuera de Harlan, acelerando su motor
Pasó por el hueco en Cumberland y gritó por Maynardville
Con los hombres de la ley en su luz trasera, bloqueos adelante
El chico de la montaña tomó caminos que hasta los ángeles temían recorrer

Ardiendo justo a través de Knoxville, por Kingston Pike
Luego justo afuera de Bearden, ahí hicieron el golpe fatal
Dejó la carretera a noventa, eso es todo lo que hay que decir
El Diablo se quedó con el licor y el chico de la montaña ese día

Trueno, trueno sobre Thunder Road
El trueno era su motor y el rayo blanco su carga
Licor, licor apagaba la sed del Diablo
La ley, nunca lo atrapó porque el Diablo lo atrapó primero

La ley, nunca lo atrapó porque el Diablo lo atrapó primero

Escrita por: Tex Williams, Robert Mitchum