They got the Younger brothers
They got plenty of others
Fool enough to cower and crawl
Shackled and chained behind high walls
They say I've made more widows and orphans
Enough to fill twenty coffins
They won't hear my side at all
Yet they'll lock me away behind high walls
If sixteen grains of morphine
Put just a wife to sleep, clean
Then you know I would take it all
But rotten is the state of Minnesota
Sweating on a chain gang I rode her/rota
The hell, I cannot take that
If sixteen grains of morphine
Put just a wife to sleep, clean
Then you know I would shoot it all
But rotten is the state of Minnesota
Sweating on a chain gang I rode her/rota
The hell, I cannot take that
Frank, they'll never catch us alive
Not with my will to survive
We'll run until they stumble and fall
I shall never spend a day behind high walls