It was a cold and cruel evenin' sneaking up on Speedy Creek
I found myself sleepin' in the snow
For one or two odd reasons I ain't too proud to repeat
For now we'll say I had no place to go
It was a rustle and a hummin'
Just a haulin' down the street
I drew myself up from my icy bed
Painted on that shiny car
The letters R, C, M and P
I could feel a little achin' in my head
And then out jumps this ol' boy about twice the size of me
He asked me for my name and where I dwelt
I just looked him in the eye and sang "Blue yodel number nine"
He didn't catch the reference I could tell
And then the old familiar click
And the handcuffs bindin' grip
He should have left me in the snow where I lay
He just laughed and touched his gun
And turnin' to me he said
"Son, I bet you don't own a damn thing to your name"
Well, I got my health, my John B. Stetson
Got a bottle full of Baby's Blue Bird wine
And I left my stash somewhere down in Preston
Along with 13 silver dollars and my mind
Well, I got my health, my John B. Stetson
Got me a bottle full of Baby's Blue Bird wine
And I left my stash somewhere down in Preston
Along with 13 silver dollars and my mind
Lyrics provided by LRCLIB
