As I walked out one mornin' in the Alabama chill,
I saw some old friends hangin' from a tree on Hobie's Hill.
By their tattered legs they dangled drippin' down along the spine.
It was old George Gudger's overalls a-drying on the line.
George Gudger, he's an honest cuss, and he likes to work his land.
I'd long admired them overalls that I held there in my hand.
My brand new pair was stiffer than a starched-up Sunday suit.
But his could walk 'round by themselves and plow the corn to boot!
Now the knees looked almost bloody from the red Hale County clay.
George Gudger's debts and prayers had kept him kneelin' down all day.
Old George owes me money, but I owe him my respect.
And if these overalls will fit me, Boy, I'll forget about his debt.
I stepped in to them big old legs like fallin' down a mine.
Then I heard a ragged chuckle, and there stood old George behind.
A smile of old tobacco juice was tricklin' down his chin.
He said, "You might as well try walkin' round in someone else's skin . . ."
"But son, if you like them old friends of mine so much, I guess I can let 'em go
Had to lean 'em to me wife last year, while she's carry'n Little Joe.
She bent down in the fields one day And split that tired old seam
And now she gone and beat 'em half to death on that rock down by the stream'
The knees looked almost bloody from the red Hale County clay.
George Gudger's debts and prayers they kept him kneelin' down all day.
You know I walked just like a drunken man, they almost made me fall.
They kept tryin' to steer me back towards Gudger's place, Cuz they're still Old George's overalls!
At home before the mirror I seemed to be a different man,
In my mind they kept a seein' His farmed out patch of land.
So I took him back his overalls and a week supply of food,
I also left my brand new pair and sneaked home in the nude.