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His daddy was an honest man a red dirt Georgia farmer |
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His mama lived her young life having kids and bailing hay |
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He had fifteen years and an ache inside to wander |
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Jumped a freight in Waycross and wound up in LA. |
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The cold nights had no pity on that Waycross Georgia farm boy |
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Most days he went hungry then the summer came |
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He met a girl known on the Strip as San Francisco's Mabel Joy |
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Destitution's child born on an LA street called Shame. |
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Growing up came quietly in the arms of Mabel Joy |
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Laughter found the mornings that brought the meaning to his life |
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Night before she left sleep came and found that Waycross country boy |
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With dreams of Georgia cotton and a California wife. |
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Sunday morning found him neath the red light at her door |
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A right cross sent him reelin' and put him face down on the floor |
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In place of Mabel Joy he found a merchant mad marine |
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He said your Georgia neck is red but Sonny you're still green. |
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He turned twenty one in a grey rock Federal prison |
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The judge had no mercy on this Waycross Georgia boy |
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Starin' at those four grey walls in silnce Lord he'd listen |
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To the midnight freight he knew could take him back to Mabel Joy. |
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Sunday morning found him neath the red light at her door |
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With a bullet in his side he cried have you seen Mabel Joy |
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Stunned and shaken someone said she don't live here no more |
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She left this house four years ago she was lookin' for some Georgia farm boy... |
