Raised on steamin crab legs
All my tattoos look the same
Barefoot on the morning dock
Gas driving me insane
So moved into the valley
Walking all day long
And my daddy raised me angry
Still I sing his favorite songs
But he rots in the pigpen so he cannot sing along
Money left me hungry
Beer don't burn the same
I broke my old guitar strings
riding old Johnny's train
Barely got me nothing
Nothing to call mine
Except these ugly smuggle charges
And an unsent load of shine
Next stop is the pigpen
I'm Surely facing time
Cows all left the green grass
Pigs all took the land
Laying in the mud
But I miss laying in the sand
Roped outside the corn field
Damned prepared to die
So I'll sing a little blue grass
As i watch them bullets fly
Next stop the pig pen
If not the damn pig sty