My life of trouble goes back to the candy
That I stole from Jesse Walker's country store
A penny seperated me from chosen sights with honesty
I just got tired of being poor.
I remember Willie Jackson laughing
And talking bout the ragged clothes I wore
That's when Willie gotta taste of all my nuckles in his face
I just got tired of being poor.
Some folks eat their supper of the silver
And the only world they ever know is wealth
But I can't blame the rich folks for these big tall walls
This prison is the doin's of myself.
Freedom ran away from me at twenty-three
I broke the lock on one too many doors
My hungry hands would not behate
When they got close to things they create
I just got tired of being poor.
Some folks eat their supper of the silver
And the only world they ever know is wealth
But I can't blame the rich folks for these big tall walls
This prison is the doin's of myself.
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