Trailer Park King

Born in the Pine Hill Trailer Park Lot seventeen, plywood floor Daddy worked the second shift at Dollar General — Mama prayed the Lord wouldn't keep him from the door

School bus stopped on the gravel road Townie kids called me trash and worse I put nickels in the jukebox at fifteen — And learned to bleed before I learned to curse

I'm the trailer park king of a county that don't matter Built my own goddamn crown out of beer cans and plywood You can sneer from your subdivision, baby — But I'm wearin' it, and you're not Wearin' it, and you're not

Got a daughter at Auburn, full ride Got a son who fixes Harley-Davidsons Got a wife who waitressed thirty-three years strong — And a mama in the cemetery in Lawton Mama in the cemetery in Lawton

The county put a Walmart where the cottonfield was The state took the school in '08 Took our names off every mailbox they could — But they cannot take the way a man stands at the gate Cannot take the way a man stands at the gate

I ain't never been ashamed of my mama I ain't never been ashamed of my dirt You can keep your master's degree, son — I got a name and a mark and a shirt A name and a mark and a shirt

I'm the trailer park king of a county that don't matter And the county don't know what it's got You can sneer from your subdivision, brother — But I'll be wearin' my crown when you rot Wearin' my crown when you rot

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