Lord, his Daddy was an honest man, just a red dirt Georgia farmer His momma lived her short life having kids and baling hay He had fifteen years and an ache inside to wander So he hop a freight at Waycross and wound up in L.A Well the cold nights had no pity on that Waycross Georgia farm boy Most days he went hungry, then the summer came He met a girl known on the strip, San Francisco's Mabel Joy Destitution's child born on an L.A. street called Shame Growing up came quietly in the arms of Mabel Joy Laughter found their mornings to be the meaning to his life Now the night before she left Sleep came and left that Waycross country boy With dreams of Georgia cotton and a California wife Sunday morning found him standing 'neath the red light at her door A right cross sent him reeling put him face down on the floor In place of Mabel Joy, he found a merchant mad marine Growled, 'Your Georgia neck is red, Sonny you're still green' So he turned twenty-one in a gray rock federal prison That old judge had no mercy on that Waycross Georgia boy Staring at those four gray walls in silence, learning, listen Midnight freight he knew could take him back to Mabel Joy Sunday morning found him lying 'neath the red light at her door With a bullet in his side, he cried, "Have you seen Mabel Joy?" Stunned and shaken someone said, "Son, she don't live here no more" Nor she left this house four years today, they say she's looking for Some Georgia farm boy