The first thing I remember knowing,

Was a lonesome whistle blowing,

And a young un's dream of growing up to ride;

On a freight train leaving town,

Not knowing where I'm bound,

No-one could change my mind but Mama tried. 

One and only rebel child,

From a family, meek and mild:

My Mama seemed to know what lay in store.

Despite all my Sunday learning,

Towards the bad, I kept on turning.

'Til Mama couldn't hold me anymore.

And I turned twenty-one in prison doing life without parole.

No-one could steer me right but Mama tried, Mama tried.

Mama tried to raise me better, but her pleading, I denied.

That leaves only me to blame 'cos Mama tried.
 [bad word] break.

Dear old Daddy, rest his soul,

Left my Mom a heavy load;

She tried so very hard to fill his shoes.

Working hours without rest,

Wanted me to have the best.

She tried to raise me right but I refused.

And I turned twenty-one in prison doing life without parole.

No-one could steer me right but Mama tried, Mama tried.

Mama tried to raise me better, but her pleading, I denied.

That leaves only me to blame 'cos Mama tried.