Из альбома: Crossroad
Op Sam Brown was a lonesome convict
He come from a Red River town
There ain’t no two ways about it It was Texas law that shot Sam down
Ol' Sam Brown told me his story
It seems a bad check writer was he Seven times down and seven times sorry
He had to spend his life under lock and key
I guess that some will say
He was worthless
And that he got only what was fair
But I’m here to say right now
Ol' Sam Brown was just a little person
Who caught up in this lifes
Great pull and tear
Ol' Sam Brown, he liked them outlaws
Billie the Kid, Frank and Jessie James
And I guess he read a thousand stories
Of the days when they roamed the plains
Tell me why didn’t someone
Help him
To belive in himself
Some, too
Hell no, they’d rather give a man
About a hundred years
Just to prove they can be Tougher than you
Ol' Sam Brown died on a Sunday morning
Layin' right there in that cement cell
Whith ragged convicts to mourn his passin'
And no loved ones to bid farewell
They used to tell him
Sam — straighten up And fly right
They used to tell him
Sam — don’t you stay out
Late at at night
And why …
Can’t you be like I am, Sam
Will you ever see the light?