Well my mama told me : son you better watch out
All those nasty woman gonna rip you dime for dime
But i got my pocket full of real tales, and a broken guitar bone
And the story keep on rollin', out from a sad man's tongue

Left my mama and papa's nest
I got the fever rambling my bones
Papa said : my boy, take my Johnny Cash vinyls and go
Well i got my pocket full of real tales, and a broken guitar bone
And the story keep on rollin', out from a sad man's tongue

Strollin' down the highway with uncle sam roaring : rebel kid get your [bad word] home
Your [bad word] belongs to me
Leave your Johnny Cash songs and get home
But i got my pocket full of real tales, and a broken guitar bone
And the story keep on rollin', out from a sad man's tongue

Singing in the cell 1.40.9.5
No way should i wear guns, i'm sitting my time

Left 1.40.9.5 with plenty rock'n'roll songs painting the road
Education sucks, so i sing my song for you

And i got my pocket full of real tales
And a broken guitar bone
And the story keep on rollin' out from a sad man's tongue