It was a cold and cruel evenin' sneaking up on Speedy Creek I found myself sleepin' in the snow For one or two odd reasons I ain't too proud to repeat For now we'll say I had no place to go It was a rustle and a hummin' Just a haulin' down the street I drew myself up from my icy bed Painted on that shiny car The letters R, C, M and P I could feel a little achin' in my head And then out jumps this ol' boy about twice the size of me He asked me for my name and where I dwelt I just looked him in the eye and sang "Blue yodel number nine" He didn't catch the reference I could tell And then the old familiar click And the handcuffs bindin' grip He should have left me in the snow where I lay He just laughed and touched his gun And turnin' to me he said "Son, I bet you don't own a damn thing to your name" Well, I got my health, my John B. Stetson Got a bottle full of Baby's Blue Bird wine And I left my stash somewhere down in Preston Along with 13 silver dollars and my mind ♪ Well, I got my health, my John B. Stetson Got me a bottle full of Baby's Blue Bird wine And I left my stash somewhere down in Preston Along with 13 silver dollars and my mind