I wake up every morning, About the break of dawn. I hear the rooster crowing, And I'm feeling all alone. There's honeys**le outside my window, Dew sparkling on the vine, And them little squirrels are barking Like they was mountain lions. I get to thinking about the road, And all the times, they come back again. I was born a child of these muddy roads And I'll die here, lonesome as the wind. Because all my cars, they broke down; They're layin' in my front yard. Yeah, I oughta get one together, But the work just seems too hard. Well, a man came by this morning And he wanted to paint my barn. He painted, "See Rock City! U.S. Highway 31." I used to have a church woman; She was purty as she could be. She ran off with a gospel singer Down in Nashville, Tennessee. So I drink a lot of liquor; I drink a lot of booze. I'm a midnight country rambler, And I ain't got much lose. I wake up a lot of mornings, Layin' down in jail. My head it will be hurtin', And I won't be feelin' too well. Then that old fat-bellied sheriff come walkin' up to me. He wants to know how it feels, not bein' free. Well, I tell him,"It doesn't matter, and I don't care a whole lot. Because I'd rather be in jail in hell than a fat-bellied cop." I said a man come by this morning, ya know. He wanted to paint my barn. Yeah, he painted, "See Rock City! U.S. Highway 31."