Work your fingers to the bone and what do you get? Boney fingers.

I know it's wrong, but I'm weak.

When I was a little baby, my mama she said "Son.Travel where you will and grow to be a manAnd sing what must be sung, poor boySing what must be sung.

You know I've smoked a lot of grassO' Lord, I've popped a lot of pillsBut I never touched nothin'That my spirit could kill.

Well, I never been to SpainBut I kinda like the musicSay the ladies are insane thereAnd they sure know how to use itThey don't abuse it, never gonna lose itI can't refuse it.

Some people say I'm a no count, others say I'm no goodBut I'm just a natural born travelin' manDoin' what I think I should, oh yeahDoin' what I think I should.

And I don't give a damn about a greenback dollarSpend it fast as I can for a wailin' song and a good guitarThe only things that I understand, oh yeah.