Well my mama told me : son you better wacth out

All those nasty woman gonna rip you dime for dime

But i got my pocket full of real tales, and a broken guitar mode

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 mode

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 ass home

Your ass belongs to me

Leave your Johnny Cash songs and get home

But i got my pocket full of real tales, and a broken guitar mode

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 mode

And the story keep on rollin' out from a glad/sad man's tongue