Intro: They got the Younger brothers They got plenty of others Fool enough to cower and crawl Shackled and chained behind high walls They say I've made more widows and orphans Enough to fill twenty coffins They won't hear my side at all Yet they'll lock me away behind high walls If sixteen grains of morphine Put just a wife to sleep, clean Then you know I would take it all But rotten is the state of Minnesota Sweating on a chain gang I rode her/rota The hell, I cannot take that Instrumental: