Times they ain’t like nothing they used to be   From Rocky Mount to northeast Tennessee   Where the river flows with a dusty cold disease   And the babies whine 'cause they can't find nothing to eat   But mama she ain't hungry no more   She's waitin’ for a knock on the trailer door      It’s gonna rock you like a hurricane   It’s gonna rock you 'til you lose sleep   It’s gonna rock you 'til you're out of a job   It’s gonna rock you 'til you're out on the street   It’s gonna rock you 'til you're down on your knees   It’s gonna have you begging pretty please   It’s gonna rock you like a hurricane   Methamphetamine...      Don't need no PHD for a hundred-dollar car   Just find a crooked cop and that doctor disregard   ’Cause when it’s either the mine or the Kentucky National Guard   Mmm, I'd rather sell them a line than be dyin' in the coal yard   Now papa he ain’t hungry no more   He's waitin’ for a knock on the trailer door      Well it's a war out there and it's fought by poor white men   From the plateau to the falls of the Cumberland   You better watch your back ‘cause you just can't trust a friend   Ooh, and the method man is gonna get you in the end   So listen to the whispering wind   It sounds like a big storm rolling in