Trouble

Well, I always been in trouble, 'cause I'm a black-skinned man.
Said I hit a white man, [and they] locked me in the can
They took me to the stockade, wouldn't give me no trial
The judge said, "You black boy, forty years on the hard rock pile."

Trouble, trouble, sure won't make me stay,
Trouble, trouble, jail break due someday.

Wearin' cold iron shackles from my head down to my knee
And that mean old keeper, he's all time kickin' me.
I went up to the walker and the head boss too
Said, "You big white folks, please see what you can do."
Sheriff winked at the policeman, said, "I won't forget you nohow,
You better come back and see me again, boy, about 40 years from now."
Went back to the walker, he looked at me and said,
"Don't you worry about 40, 'cause in five years you'll be dead."

Trouble, trouble, makes me weep and moan
Trouble, trouble, every since I was born.
Trouble, trouble, sure won't make me stay,
Trouble, trouble, jail break due someday