This story is of my life. An' it cuts ME like a knife. Cause it don't read the way that I planned it. When I was born, I was hooked. On trouble each place I looked. Though by some evil iron I was branded.
Fugitive kind……Run with the devil. Trouble all the time……Some kind of rebel. But I'm no different in my mind. Heaven help the fugitive. Fugitive kind.
Trouble just follows me round. An' then it run me to ground. Well, maybe you just can't understand that. An' when it does no one help. So I guess I help myself. An' Baby, You should know that's where I'm at.
Fugitive kind……Run with the devil. Trouble all the time……Some kind of rebel. But I'm no different in my mind. Heaven help the fugitive. Fugitive kind.
