I'm a poor boy born in [bad word] And some say my manners ain't the best
And some of my friends, yeah, they've been in real trouble
And some say I'm no better than the rest
But tell your mama and your papa
Sometimes good guys don't wear white, yeah

Every day baby, I work hard
And it's [bad word] at night, I spend a restless time
But those rich kids and all that lazy money
Can't hold a candle to mine
So tell your mama and your papa
Sometimes good guys don't wear white

Good guys bad guys which is which
The white collar worker or the digger in the ditch
Hey, and who's to say who's the better man
When I've always done the best I can

How bad was his dirty mind
All those messed up chicks of the changin' times
White pills and easy livin'
Can't replace the love I've given
So tell your mama and your papa
Sometimes good guys don't wear white

{spoken}
Ha, I mean to tell ya
You better tell your mama and your papa somethin'
I'll split off by myself with another chick yeah, Ah just a kick
You think those guys in the white collars are better than I am baby
Then flake off
You don't dig this long hair, get yourself a crew-cut baby
Yeah
I mean what I said