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He was a mighty golden boy, as gold as ever seen,
But when he stepped up to the podium, you could tell that boy was mean.
His arms was made of nickel, and his forehead made of wood.
An affidavit from the principal says,this boy just ain’t no good.
He stood before the union, and he made a solemn oath.
Uphold the purity of his creed, the others he would toast.
He worked nights at the liquor mart, and he drank to pad his pay.
When he caught him lifting 40s, he shot a boy last may.
His momma asked why?
His lawyer in the courtroom, made a noble plea.
And the judge he gave him eighteen months, but he was out in three.
When asked if he ever felt remorse while sittin’ up in that pen.
He said hell no, ya know a thief’s a thief.
And I’d shoot that fucker again.
Read more lyrics about / on: work
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