White Trash

I wake up every morning about the break of dawn I hear the rooster crowing and I'm feeling all alone There's honeysuckle outside my window dew sparkling on the vine and them little squirrels are barking like they were mountain lions I get to thinking about the road and all the times, they come back again I was born a child of these muddy roads and I'll die here lonesome as the wind Cause all my cars, they're broke down layin' in my front yard I ought to get one together but the work just seems too hard A man come by this morning he wanted to paint my barn He painted, "See Rock City US Highway 31." I used to have a church woman pretty as she could be Runoff with the gospel singer down in Nashville, Tennessee So I drink a lot of liquor, Lord I drink a lot of booze I'm a midnight country rambler and I ain't got much to lose I wake up a lot of mornings laying down in jail My head, it will be hurtin' and I won't be feeling too well That old, fat bellied sheriff he'll come walking up to me He wants to know how it feels not being free I tell him, "It don't matter much and I don't care a whole lot 'Cause I'd rather be in jail, in Hell then a fat fucking cop." I said a man come by this morning and he wanted to paint my barn He painted, "See Rock City US Highway 31."