Lyrics
Well my mama told me: son you better watch out
Warning from the narrator's mother about potential trouble with women.
All those nasty woman gonna rip you dime for dime
Cautioning about women who may take advantage of the narrator.
But I got my pocket full of real tales, and a broken guitar mode, guitar mode
The narrator possesses authentic stories and a broken guitar, emphasizing a challenging life.
And the story keep on rollin', out from a sad man's tongue
The ongoing narrative originates from the expressive and sorrowful voice of a troubled man.
Left my mama and papa's nest
The narrator leaves the safety of his parents' home.
I got the fever rambling my bones
The narrator feels a restless energy within him.
Papa said: my boy, take my Johnny Cash vinyls and go
Encouragement from the narrator's father to pursue a rebellious path with Johnny Cash's influence.
Well I got my pocket full of real tales, and a broken guitar mode, guitar mode
Accumulation of genuine stories and a damaged guitar, highlighting a rugged journey.
And the story keep on rollin', out from a sad man's tongue
The ongoing narrative persists, driven by the expressive voice of the troubled narrator.
Strollin' down the highway with uncle Sam roaring: rebel kid get your ass home
The narrator faces societal expectations, with Uncle Sam urging a return to conformity.
Your ass belongs to me
A claim of ownership by authority, demanding the narrator's compliance.
Leave your Johnny Cash songs and get home
Abandonment of Johnny Cash's influence is demanded for societal integration.
But I got my pocket full of real tales, and a broken guitar mode, guitar mode
Despite societal pressure, the narrator clings to his genuine stories and broken guitar.
And the story keep on rollin', out from a sad man's tongue
The ongoing narrative defies societal norms, continuing from the troubled narrator's perspective.
Singing in the cell 1.40.9.5
The narrator reflects on singing in a cell with a specific timestamp, possibly indicating a prison experience.
No way should I wear guns, I'm sitting my time
Commitment to avoiding violence or trouble during imprisonment.
Left 1.40.9.5 with plenty rock'n'roll songs painting the road
Leaving prison with a collection of rock'n'roll songs, expressing disdain for formal education.
Education sucks, so I sing my song for you
The narrator critiques education and presents a rebellious song for the listener.
And I got my pocket full of real tales
The narrator holds onto genuine stories and a broken guitar, symbolizing resilience.
And a broken guitar mode, guitar mode
Reiteration of the narrator's possessions, emphasizing the ongoing narrative.
And the story keep on rollin' out from a sad man's tongue
The continuing story emerges from the troubled narrator's expressive voice.
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