I grew up in the deep South, and wore dungarees.
We lived in a little shack, and ate bacon grease.
I slept with my sister, and she slept with my pa.
It didn't bother my mother, 'cus we kept him in a jar.
I ain't got no moonshine, I ain't got no wife.
Oh Lord help me, rebuild my life.
Since I was a young boy, travelled far from home.
Oh Lord don't let me die on my own.
I ended up in prison, down in Tennessee.
There were 14 bad dudes, in the cell with me.
I felt so dirty, I felt like a pig.
Got raped in the showers by Mr Big.
Now my life's nearly over, it's been a pain.
And my eyes are getting bad, I didn't see that train.
Now as I lay dying, I hear coyote hoots.
But it's two drunk Indians, and they've stole my boots.
Версия для печати