| Well I came from a broken home
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| My mamma had a broken heart
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| And even though she tried to fight it
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| It was broken from the start
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| My daddy had a problem
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| But he always seemed to find himself a drink
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| And when he finally hit rock bottom
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| Well we didn’t know how low he’d sink
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| My family has a record
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| That’s as long as your arm
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| And I don’t want you to read it
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| 'Cause it’s gonna do us harm
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| I keep it locked away somewhere, I know
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| In a cellar that I call my youth
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| It’s my criminal record
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| It’s the truth
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| It’s all there in the records
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| Every move is written down
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| I got it tied around my neck now
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| One day I’m gonna drown
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| And I stood on a mountain
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| And I wondered when I’d fall
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| It was always right behind me
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| Yeah the writing’s on the wall
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| My family has a record
|
| That’s as long as your arm
|
| And I don’t want you to read it
|
| 'Cause it gonna do us harm
|
| I keep it locked away somewhere, I know
|
| In a cellar that I call my youth
|
| It’s my criminal record
|
| It’s the truth
|
| And you can stand me up, again the wall
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| With the lines behind my head
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| You can point your finger at me in a lineup
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| Screamin' that you want me dead
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| Well, I came from a broken home
|
| My mamma had a broken heart
|
| And even though she tried to fight it
|
| It was broken from the start
|
| I keep it locked away somewhere, I know
|
| In a cellar that I call my youth
|
| It’s my criminal record
|
| Yeah, I keep it locked away somewhere, I know
|
| In a cellar that I call my youth
|
| It’s my criminal record
|
| It’s the truth |