Pocket Full of Misery

Seven on seven

Till them chains come undone

Fighting a battle that you've already won

Singing

"Hey, hey, Mama

Look at me

Standing down on 12th Street

Pocket full of misery"

Boxcars and bad luck

Well, they never were your friends

The whiskey and the lightning

Well, it brought you round again

You were singing

"Hey, hey, Mama

Look at me

Standing down on 12th Street

Pocket full of misery"

Back down in Texas

Where they all knew your name

Seven, come eleven

You could hear them angels sing

They were singing

"Hey, hey, Mama

Look at me

Standing down on 12th Street

Pocket full of misery"

They were singing

"Hey, hey, Mama

Take a look at me

Standing down on 12th Street

Pocket full of misery"