Me and Bobby McGee.
Also, he's, can he?
He's on our training.
Okay.
I was busted flat in Baton Rouge,
hit the father's train,
feeling nearly faded as my jeans.
Well,
old Bobby,
down the diesel now,
just before it rained,
you know,
took us all the way down to New Orleans.
And I pulled my old harpoon out of my dirty red bandana,
low and low, while Bobby sang the blues.
Well, then, when she walked for a step in time,
and Bobby clapped her hands, and finally sang up
every song that driver knew.
Well,
you know,
freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose.
Nothing ain't worth nothing, but it's free.
Feeling good was easy,
Lord,
when Bobby sang the blues.
Lord, it was good, good enough for me.
Good enough for me and Bobby McGee.
Mama,
from the coal mines of Kentucky to the California sun,
Bobby shared the secrets of my soul.
She was standing right beside me,
Lord,
through everything I've done.
And every night she helped me from the cold.
I've been somewhere near Salinas,
where I watched her walk away,
looking for the home I hope she'll find.
And I'd trade all my tomorrows for a single yesterday,
just to hold that woman's body close to mine.
Well,
you know,
freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose.
Nothing ain't worth nothing, but it's free.
Feeling good was easy,
Lord,
when Bobby sang the blues.
Lord, it was good, good enough for me.
Good enough for me and Bobby McGee.
Yeah!
I did it not for me and Bobby McGee.
I did it not for me and Bobby McGee.
I did it not for me and Bobby McGee.