Back in my younger days
I was just a kid that’s what they said
I worked the night shift all day

I had a paper route and burglar tools
I was pretty dumb but I was nobody’s fool
I sported ducktails and I smoked Kools

I drank my supper from a Dixie cup
Growing up was just a matter of luck
And I wished that I knew now what I knew then

I was hell bent and happy
Just sliding up hill
I should have gone to jail
For all the times I killed
I was hell bent and happy
Just spitting in the wind
And I may never come this was again

Grew up on a dead end street
My education was incomplete
I wore overall’s and went bare feet

I pitched quarters and played forty-two
Word around town I was known as a dude
I picked guitar and sang the blues.