I wake up every morning,
About the break of dawn.
I hear the rooster crowing,
And I'm feeling all alone.
There's honeys**le outside my window,
Dew sparkling on the vine,
And them little squirrels are barking
Like they was mountain lions.
I get to thinking about the road,
And all the times, they come back again.
I was born a child of these muddy roads
And I'll die here, lonesome as the wind.
Because all my cars, they broke down;
They're layin' in my front yard.
Yeah, I oughta get one together,
But the work just seems too hard.
Well, a man came by this morning
And he wanted to paint my barn.
He painted, "See Rock City! U.S. Highway 31."
I used to have a church woman;
She was purty as she could be.
She ran off with a gospel singer
Down in Nashville, Tennessee.
So I drink a lot of liquor;
I drink a lot of booze.
I'm a midnight country rambler,
And I ain't got much lose.
I wake up a lot of mornings,
Layin' down in jail.
My head it will be hurtin',
And I won't be feelin' too well.
Then that old fat-bellied sheriff come walkin' up to me.
He wants to know how it feels, not bein' free.
Well, I tell him,"It doesn't matter, and I don't care a whole lot.
Because I'd rather be in jail in hell than a fat-bellied cop."
I said a man come by this morning, ya know.
He wanted to paint my barn.
Yeah, he painted, "See Rock City! U.S. Highway 31."