Woorden: Doobie Brothers. What Were Once Vices. Down In The Track.

I've been workin' the whole day long,
on these railroad ties singin' a sad, sad song.
Down the track is a bad way to live,
the boss man's whip is all he's got to give.

And late at night in the twilight of the South,
they put you in a cell and let the bull dogs out;
the old cat down the way, well, he's singin' out the blues
'cause he's got no one back home.
"Oh", somebody sighed.

The next day comes
they send you back out on the track,
all that sweat be drippin' down and off your back.
Everybody's singin' a workin' man's song,
hopin' they don't have to feel the whip on their bone.

The water boy slowly makes his way around,
a bucket full of swamp water weighin' him down,
old Squeezer Walker just fell out on the ground,
and they're draggin' his body away.
Oh, my, my, my.

Well, there's talk around camp
that there's gonna be a fight,
old Razor Face and Willie Black,
the meanest dudes in sight;
one's got a razor and the other's got a knife,
but only one's gonna walk out alive.
Oh, baby, mama, get me outta here.
Can't stand no more.

This place is gonna be the death of me,
believe to my soul that I've gotta be free.
There's only one way that it's ever gonna be,
that's when the angels come and take me away.
Oh, now. Yes, I do believe.

Oh, baby, mama, get me outta here.
I just can't stand no more.

This place is gonna be the death of me,
believe to my soul that I've gotta be free.
There's only one way that it's ever gonna be,
that's when the angels come and take me away.
Oh, my, my, my