His Daddy was a simple man, just a red dirt Georgia farmer And his Momma spent her young life having kids and baling hay He had fifteen years and an ache inside to wander So he hopped a freight in Way cross and wound up in L.A.
Lord, the cold nights had no pity on a Way cross, Georgia farm boy Most days he went hungry, then the summer came He met a girl known on the strip as San Francisco's Mabel Joy Destitutions child born of an L.A. street called Shame
Growing up came quietly in the arms of Mabel Joy Laughter found their mornings brought meaning to his life Yes, the night before she left sleep came and left that Way cross, Georgia 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 In place of 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 gray rock federal prison The old judge had no mercy for a Way cross, Georgia boy Staring at those four gray walls in silence he would listen To that midnight freight he knew would take him back to Mabel Joy
Sunday morning found him standing '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, why, she's not here no more She left this house four years today, they say she's looking for some Georgia farm boy