Wise men say That a poor mother's child Lives his life in vain If he doesn't visit lour The house of pain At the age of 4 my momma Don died My daddy started in drinking And he left me by An orphanage doors said: Get the rest of your life for thinking, now At the age of 8 Thoughts filled my mind I had to run had to run away And I met a bomb by the name of Joe And he told me I could stay, now Now Joe said Earn your key, boy! Man's gotta work for every meal And Joe he told me how to rob load He taught me how to steal At age 13 I was a restless lad And Joe said little drinking do you know harm But by 15 years a drinking meant nothin' Compared to this holes in my arm Now I'm not a violent man I can't stand killing Without reason to be done But when my friend Joe started stealing my brandy Shot him with a second hand gun But people don't know What pain it is runnin' So we gonna manner 30 cries with tears But I've been livin' on crammers and sterno Not under 15 years My strength is gone My eyes are closin' It's gettin' dark And oh, so cold But it's nice and warm In the place I'll be going to Will probably have me a shoveling coal, now So let it now to be said That a man ain't believin' That he spent his life in vain 'Cause I spend 30 cold windy thirsty years Inside the house of pain, now Inside the house of pain Inside the house of pain