I had an appointment at the Mayo Clinic

To have me an MRI

It was on a cold cold day in November

Under a clear blue sky.

I got in my car heading for Rochester

South on 52

With a full tank of gas and the radio playing

And the tires were all brand-new.

I was goin down the road making ninety miles an hour

Listening to the radio

It was Bill Monroe playing bluegrass breakdowns

And he did not play them slow.

I was near Zumbrota, following a semi

When a deer jumped into the gap

I hit the brakes and I swerved toward the shoulder

And my coffee fell into my lap.

Well in my shock I threw the car into Park

And I heard the transmission scream

And the crankshaft fell out on the highway

It was all like a real bad dream.

It blew the front tires and skidded in the ditch

For I could no longer steer

In the back seat I was carrying an anvil

And it flew right past my ear

And the airbag opened as my car flipped over

Ten times it cartwheeled

Through the trees with the engine smoking

And it came to rest in a field.

I leaped from the wreck and I dove for cover

And I heard that gas tank blow

The flames leaped up in a giant conflagration

To the music of Bill Monroe.

The radio played as the flames leaped higher

You could hear the fiddle cry

It played In the Pines and Will The Circle Be Unbroken

By and by Lord by and by.

The radio played as the car burned to ashes

And the tires and frame were gone

You can wreck your car until it's a ruin

But radio goes on and on.

The deer escaped and the semi kept trucking

And they took that M.R.I.

A picture of my brain and it was all in order

And responding to stimuli.

Ever since that day I have been more careful

To give thanks to the Lord

And I don't carry anvils in the back seat

Or coffee on my dashboard.