Læs dagbog

Got in a little trouble
At the county seat
Lord, they put me in the jail house
For loafin' on the street
When the judge heard the verdict.
I was a guilty man.
He said, "Forty five dollars
Or thirty days in the can"

"That'll be cash on the barrelhead, Son!
You can take your choice
You're twenty one
No money down
No credit plan
No time to chase you
'Cause I'm a busy man"

Found a telephone number
On a laundry slip
I had a good, hardy jailor
With a six gun hip
He let me call long distance
She said, "Number, please"
An' no sooner that I told her
She shouted at me

"That'll be cash on the barrelhead, Son
Not part in cash.
But the entire sum
No money down
No credit plan
'Cause a little bird tells me
You're a travelin' man"

Thirty days in the jail house
Four days on the road
I was feelin' mighty hungry
My feet, a heavy load
Saw a Greyhound comin'
Stuck out my thumb
Just as I was being seated
The driver caught my arm

That'll be cash on the barrelhead, Son
This old, gray dog gets paid to run
When the engine stop
the wheels won't roll
Gimme Cash on the barrelhead
I'll take you down the road"