4 bald tires on an old Impala 17 degrees South Alabama Mama needs money and we're late for school Picking out the parts of a Bob Wills tune I got a scrambled egg sandwich and a Folger's can Daddy says he'll never work for the man I'll hold your head I'll ease your mind Let me sing you a lullaby sit here by the fire Tomorrow's Sunday Come and rest your soul Let me be your good book Story's all been told I'll hold your head Lord the world's gone crazy can't save your sin He shouldn't be driving in the shape he's in Icy cold water in the Santa Bogue I hear a Ford pickup on the old dirt road Mammy's down the hill hulling peas in a pan Dandy's got a bucket and a hoe in his hand I'll hold your head I'll ease your mind Let me sing you a lullaby sit here by the fire Tomorrow's Sunday Come and rest your soul Let me be your good book Story's all been told I'll hold your head It ain't fair for a youngun' all this hurtin' Battlin' the blues and the beer and the bourbon Come on Sissy let's close the door Don't want to hear the noise no more