The White Trash Song-Shooter Jennings/Scott H Biram

Wake up every morning, by the break of dawn Hear that rooster crowing, I feel so all alone Honey snuggle outside my window, do sparkling oh divine Little squirrels is a'barking Like they thought they was a mountain-lion I get to thinking about the road, all the times I've been back again I was born a child of these muddy roads I guess I'll die here lonesome as the wind Cause all my cover broke down Playing' live fun yard I won't get one, get her But the road just seems too hard Someone come round this morning, Wanting to play in my barn He was highway 41 Ladies and gentlemen Well I use to have me a Oh just as pretty as can be All the Jimmy swagger Left in Nashville Tennessee So I drink me a whole lot of liquor And I drink me a whole lot of booze I'm a midnight country-rambler And I ain't got nothing to lose I ain't got nothing to lose boys I wake up beyond the mornings Laying in this jail My head will be hurting I won't be feeling too well That old flat-belly sheriff talking out to me I wanna know how it felt: not being free I said didn't matter much, Didn't hurt at all I'll never be locked up in jail, hell, hell