I was born
|
a couple miles from here
|
my family rented me this house
|
so my family keeps me near
|
|
from 1909
|
my family¡¯s run the town
|
you step out of line, poor sap
|
family council will sit you down
|
|
one day I fell in love
|
and of course we fucked around
|
the morning she threw up
|
my options were all laid out
|
|
I followed through
|
and now I got two sons
|
no peace even when you come
|
¡®cause they won¡¯t let you run
|
|
I got dead drunk
|
and packed up the pickup truck
|
got way out of town, I thought
|
but sheriff tracked me down
|
|
they dragged me home
|
and the family sat me down
|
they kept me cuffed up and they roughed me up and said:
|
¡°we¡¯ll never let you run.¡±
|
|
-----------------
|
They Won't Let Me Run
|
| John Vanderslice |