Lord his Daddy was an honest man Just a red dirt Georgia farmer And his momma lived her short life Having kids and baling hay He had fifteen years And he ached inside to wander So he jumped a freight at Waycross And wound up in LA The cold nights had no pity On that Waycross, Georgia farm boy Most days he went hungry And then the summer came He met a girl known on the strip As San Francisco's Mabel Joy Destitution's child, born of an LA Street called "Shame" Growing up came quietly In the arms of Mabel Joy Laughter found their mornings Brought a meaning to his life And the night before she left Sleep came and left that Waycross, country boy With dreams of Georgia cotton And a California wife Sunday morning found him standing 'neath the red light at her door When a right cross sent him reeling Put him face down on the floor And in place of his Mabel Joy He found a merchant mad marine Who growled, "Your Georgia neck is red But Sonny you're still green" He turned twenty-one In a grey rock federal prison The old judge had no mercy On that Waycross, country boy Staring at those four grey walls In silence he would listen To the midnight freight he knew would take him Back to Mabel Joy Sunday morning found him lying 'neath the red light at her door With a bullet in his side He cried "Have you seen Mabel Joy!" "Stunned and shaken someone said Son, she don't live here no more No, she left this house four years today They say she's looking for... Some Georgia farm boy