When I was boy
8 years old
Little brown house
Don’t keep out cold
I wish was wiser
Thought ahead
Knew all too soon
I’d be better off dead
Ran down to the freeway
One Sunday noon
Couldn’t run no further
So hungry I ate a raccoon
Ain’t got no money
Ain’t got no home
Thinkin’ maybe
I should sell my soul
Highway Blues
Got me a job
As a barber man
Done cut that hair
Best I can
Saved some money
Went back home
Shot my neighbor
For reasons unknown
Went to prison
Dropped the soap
With such:
prison food
prisoners
prison guards
prison rape
I never had to cope