Well my mama told me : son you better wacth out   All those nasty woman gonna rip you dime for dime   But i got my pocket full of real tales, and a broken guitar mode   And the story keep on rollin', out from a sad man's tongue      Left my mama and papa's nest   I got the fever rambling my bones   Papa said : my boy, take my Johnny Cash vinyls and go   Well i got my pocket full of real tales, and a broken guitar mode   And the story keep on rollin', out from a sad man's tongue      Strollin' down the highway with uncle sam roaring : rebel kid get your ass home   Your ass belongs to me   Leave your Johnny Cash songs and get home   But i got my pocket full of real tales, and a broken guitar mode   And the story keep on rollin', out from a sad man's tongue      Singing in the cell 1.40.9.5   No way should i wear guns, i'm sitting my time      Left 1.40.9.5 with plenty rock'n'roll songs painting the road   Education sucks, so i sing my song for you      And i got my pocket full of real tales   And a broken guitar mode   And the story keep on rollin' out from a glad/sad man's tongue