It's six-o-five a.m. on Sunday morning
And I'm supposed to left for Memphis late last night
Well, I stopped at one of them old highway places
Because I did I sleep in Tyrone County jail tonight.

Well, I started out the night with good intentions
But I ended up gettin' sideways drinkin' wine
Well, the last thing I remember we were roaring
Then something hit my head and knocked me from my conscious mind.

And I'm a victim of life's circumstances
Well, I was raised around barrooms and Friday night dancers
Singin' them old country songs
And half the time I end up some place I don't belong.

(Instrumental)

I said jailer, hey, what you've got me charged with
He looked at me and halfway closed one eye
He said he mean to say you don't remember
Cuttin' up some honky with that bone handled knife.

And I'm a victim of life's circumstances
Well, I was raised around barrooms and Friday night dancers
Singin' them old country songs
And half the time I end up some place I don't belong.

Well, I'm a victim of life's circumstances
Well, I was raised around barrooms and Friday night dancers
Singin' them old country songs
And half the time I end up some place I don't belong...

(Instrumental)