Well, I was born with a flower in my hand,
To place upon my mother's grave.
And I came in like a stone, Lord, Rollin' right along.
I came harder than my mother could have took.
Papa worked me hard since the day I learned to walk,
Remindin' me of all that I did wrong.
He said, son, mark these words Ill be happy when youre gone.
And I'm restin' with your mother 'neath her stone.
I was born with the devil on my shoulder,
And my mama's angel ridin' on the right.
I can't find a piece of satisfaction,
I'm a'livin' out the rest of my mama's life.
Well, each Sunday after church we'd go to her stone,
That's the only time I'd see my papa smile.
Then he'd look cross at me watchin' tears run down my cheek,
Shakin' his head, as he left my mama's grave.
I was born with the devil on my shoulder,
And my mama's angel ridin' on the right.
I can't find a piece of satisfaction,
I'm a'livin' out the rest of my mama's life.
I was born with the devil on my shoulder,
And my mama's angel ridin' on the right.
I can't find a piece of satisfaction,
I'm a'livin' out the rest of my mama's life.
Now today I'm dressed in black, with a burden off my back.
And a flower in my blood stained hands.
I said daddy, mark these words, I've got guilt of my own,
You're better off beneath my mama's stone.

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