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Ethan Daniel Davidson - True Tale Of S.e. Lyrics



Ethan Daniel Davidson - True Tale Of S.e. Lyrics




I am a poor wayfaring stranger I have done nothing to earn my cursed name But I live constant on the lamb Lest I fall into the hands Of the men who put me back in chains

I was born just east of Hackett County And I was orphaned by the age of ten I had an uncle in Tennessee The devil for a son had he It was with them that I grew to be a man

My new brother was the law in Wilson County And as cruel a man you have never seen He had the lust for a girl named Mary She was fair and young and free But she had taken a liking to me

I can't forget that dewey Sunday morning Me and Mary took a stroll by the Cumberland But three shots cracked in jealous blood Laid poor Mary in the mud My sheriff brother fired the gun from out a willow stand

Well I don't know if he was seized by a fit of mercy Or was it cruelty that he did not kill me then And as sheriff, jailor, and jury He accused me of his sin And he sentenced me to hard labor 'til my end

Now my story has been told too often falsely But for his crime I slaved beneath the blazing sun Well there's a Judge up there maybe But He must never look on me Still I can't be proud of what I seen must be done

So I was sent to do my time on that killer's chain gang We were seven men and the dregs of the lowest kind And he drove us from dawn 'til dusk In a world of blood and dust Pounding sun, pounding hammers, pounding mind

The killer watched us busting rocks with a haughty eye And for his hardened heart I gave two years and ten Then one day the sky did crack And he chanced to turn his back And I turned my heavy hammer upon him

There ain't no moral, there ain't no wisdom And though I'm free from chains I'm constant on the roam Well there's a Judge up there maybe So won't you say a word for me That He may come and bring my sorry bones back home
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I am a poor wayfaring stranger I have done nothing to earn my cursed name But I live constant on the lamb Lest I fall into the hands Of the men who put me back in chains

I was born just east of Hackett County And I was orphaned by the age of ten I had an uncle in Tennessee The devil for a son had he It was with them that I grew to be a man

My new brother was the law in Wilson County And as cruel a man you have never seen He had the lust for a girl named Mary She was fair and young and free But she had taken a liking to me

I can't forget that dewey Sunday morning Me and Mary took a stroll by the Cumberland But three shots cracked in jealous blood Laid poor Mary in the mud My sheriff brother fired the gun from out a willow stand

Well I don't know if he was seized by a fit of mercy Or was it cruelty that he did not kill me then And as sheriff, jailor, and jury He accused me of his sin And he sentenced me to hard labor 'til my end

Now my story has been told too often falsely But for his crime I slaved beneath the blazing sun Well there's a Judge up there maybe But He must never look on me Still I can't be proud of what I seen must be done

So I was sent to do my time on that killer's chain gang We were seven men and the dregs of the lowest kind And he drove us from dawn 'til dusk In a world of blood and dust Pounding sun, pounding hammers, pounding mind

The killer watched us busting rocks with a haughty eye And for his hardened heart I gave two years and ten Then one day the sky did crack And he chanced to turn his back And I turned my heavy hammer upon him

There ain't no moral, there ain't no wisdom And though I'm free from chains I'm constant on the roam Well there's a Judge up there maybe So won't you say a word for me That He may come and bring my sorry bones back home
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