Poor Boy Lyrics - My Dusty Road - Woody Guthrie

My mother called me to her bedside 

These words she said to me 

If you don't quit your rambling ways 

They're gonna get you in the penitentiary 

Gonna get you in the penitentiary poor boy 

Gonna get you in the penitentiary 

If you don't quit your reckless ways 

They're gonna get you in the penitentiary 

So I sat myself down in a gambling game 

But I could not play my hand 

Just thinking about that woman I love 

Run away with another man 

Run away with another man poor boy 

Run away with another man 

Just thinking about that woman I love 

Run away with another man 

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The cards came around the table lord 

And I had such a worried mind 

My stack of gold dollars I wasted away 

And I lost about ninety-nine 

I lost about ninety-nine poor boy 

I lost about ninety-nine 

My stack of gold dollars I wasted away 

And I lost about ninety-nine 

It wasn't very long till I seen him again 

He ran away left her behind 

And I laid him down with my old forty-four 

And the judge gave me ninety-nine 

The judge gave me ninety-nine poor boy 

The judge gave me ninety-nine 

I laid a man down with my big forty-four 

And the judge gave me ninety-nine 

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Well the jury said I had to pay 

And the clerk he wrote it down 

And the judge called out my number 

Two sixes upside down 

Two sixes upside down poor boy 

Two sixes upside down 

The judge called out my number 

Two sixes upside down