Going to Truman

Going to Trumann, going to lay my old soul down

Going to Trumann, God forgotten dust bowl town

My family are gone and left me down on bended knee

Twenty three dollars for my shelter and my keep

I'm going to Trumann

Lay this old soul in the ground

Second husband - fighting with the prison hound

I've fallen down the stairs

Walked into one too many doors

He settled for me

I'm no better than those whores down in Trumann

Salvation in the friend I've found

Old Jack whiskey lying face down in the rain

He sold a child for the snowball in his vein

From the salesman with the mansion on the hill

It's invisible the bullet

And invisible the kill

Down in Trumann

But I hear the air is clean

Going to Trumann

Where the air is nice and clean