It was a cold and cruel evening
Sneaking up on Speedy Creek
Found myself asleep and in the snow
One or two odd reasons
I ain't too proud to repeat
For now we'll say I had no place to go
There was a rustle and a humming
Just hauling down the street
I drew myself up from my icy bed
Painted on that shiny car the letters RCM and P
I can feel a little aching in my head

And then out jumps this ol'boy
About twice the size of me
He asked me for my name and where I dwell
I just looked him in the eye
And sang Blue Yodel Number Nine
He didn't catch the reference, I could tell

Then the old, familiar click
In the handcuffs bind and grip
Should have left me in the snow where I laid
He just laughed and touched his gun
And turned to me he said
Son, I bet you don't own a damn thing to your name

Well, I got my health
My John B Stetson
Got a bottle full of Baby's Blue Bird Wine
And I got my stash
Somewhere down in Preston
Along with thirteen silver dollars and my mind

Well, I got my health
My John B Stetson
Got a bottle full of Baby's Blue Bird Wine
And I got my stash
Somewhere down in Preston
Along with thirteen silver dollars and my mind