The first thing I remember knowing was a lonesome whistle blowing, and a youngin's dream of growing up to ride. On a freight train leaving town, not knowing where I'm bound, and no one could change my mind but Mama tried. The one and only rebel child from a family meek and mild, my Mama seemed to know what lay in store. In spite of all my Sunday learning, towards the bad I kept on turning, until Mama couldn't hold me anymore. I turned twenty-one in prison doing life without parole, no one could steer me right but Mama tried. Mama tried, Mama tried to raise me better, but her pleading I denied, that leaves only me to blame cause Mama tried. Dear old Daddy, rest his soul, left my Mama heavy low, she tried so very hard to fill his shoes. Working hours without rest, wanted me to have the best, she tried to raise me right but I refused. And I turned twenty-one in prison doing life without parole, no one could steer me right but Mama tried. Mama tried, Mama tried to raise me better, but her pleading I denied, that leaves only me to blame cause Mama tried.