Well my mama told me : son you better wacth out
All those nasty woman gonna rip you dime for dime
But i got my pocket full of real tales, and a broken guitar mode
And the story keep on rollin', out from a sad man's tongue
Left my mama and papa's nest
I got the fever rambling my bones
Papa said : my boy, take my Johnny Cash vinyls and go
Well i got my pocket full of real tales, and a broken guitar mode
And the story keep on rollin', out from a sad man's tongue
Strollin' down the highway with uncle sam roaring : rebel kid get your ass home
Your ass belongs to me
Leave your Johnny Cash songs and get home
But i got my pocket full of real tales, and a broken guitar mode
And the story keep on rollin', out from a sad man's tongue
Singing in the cell 1.40.9.5
No way should i wear guns, i'm sitting my time
Left 1.40.9.5 with plenty rock''roll songs painting the road
Education sucks, so i sing my song for you
And i got my pocket full of real tales
And a broken guitar mode
And the story keep on rollin' out from a glad/sad man's tongue