| Well, out of Southern Illinois
|
| Come a down home country boy
|
| He’s gonna make it in the city
|
| Playin' guitar in the studio
|
| Well he hadn’t been there an hour
|
| When he met a Broadway flower
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| You know she took him for his money
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| And she left him in a cheap hotel
|
| Oh, well, it’s easy for you to see
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| That that country boy is me
|
| Saying «And how am I gonna ever
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| Break the news to the folks back home?»
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| Well, I was gonna be a great success
|
| Things sure ended up a mess
|
| But in the process I got messed up too
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| «Hello Mamma and Dad I had to call collect
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| 'Cause I ain’t got a cent to my name
|
| Well I’m sleepin' in the hotel doorway
|
| And tonight they say it’s gonna rain
|
| And if you’d only send me some money
|
| I’ll be back on my feet again
|
| Send it in care of the Sunday Mission
|
| Box number ten.»
|
| Well, back in Southern Illinois
|
| They’re still worryin' 'bout their boy
|
| But this boy’s goin' home soon’s he get’s the fare
|
| Because as soon as I got my bread
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| I got a pipe upside my head
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| You know they left me in an alley
|
| Took my money and my guitar, too
|
| «Hello Mamma and Dad I had to call collect
|
| 'Cause I ain’t got a cent to my name
|
| Well I’m sleepin' in the hotel doorway
|
| And tonight they say it’s gonna rain
|
| And if you’d only send me some money
|
| I’ll be back on my feet again
|
| Send it in care of the Sunday Mission
|
| Box number ten.» |