Text: Shel Silverstein. Whiplash Will.

Whiplash Will from Watsonville
He's got a rubber spine.
It's just his luck when he drives his truck
He keeps getting it from behind.
But Whiplash Will, he's hard to kill
And he's a real good sport.
And if you've got your checkbook handy,
He'll settle out of court.

Singing
C'mon hit and hit me.
C'mon c'mon. I dare you.
Bust me. Bend me. Hey, rearend me.
Don't let this neck brace scare you.

Whiplash will be at the bottom of the hill.
He's got no taillights on.
Sitting double parked and waiting int he dark
Till a Cadillac comes along.
Now if you're driving a Rolls or an 88 Olds, he sure be glad you came.
But if you're driving a Volks, he yells "Move on, Folks,
You're messing up my game."

His vertebrae they pay and pay
His spine's been bought and sold.
That twisted neck brings big old checks
His lumbar's made of gold.
When Whiplash Will's got to pay his bills,
He remembers what his daddy said:
"Son, a poor boy's got to break his back
If he ever wants to get ahead."

Whiplash Will from Watsonville
Does not work alone.
Got a doctor and a lawyer and a tow truck driver
All waiting by their telephones.
And he tells the pigs about other rigs
That are comin' on a bit too strong
And they let Will know on that CB radio
When a live one's coming along.

Singing
C'mon hit and hit me.
C'mon c'mon. I dare you.
Bust me. Bend me. Hey, rearend me.
Don't let this neck brace scare you.