San Francisco Mabel Joy
Lord his Daddy was an honest man, just a red dirt Georgia farmerAnd his momma lived her short life having kids and baling hayHe had fifteen years and he ached inside to wanderSo he jumped a freight at Waycross and wound up in LA
The cold nights had no pity on that Waycross, Georgia farm boyMost days he went hungry, and then the summer cameHe met a girl known on the strip as San Francisco's Mabel JoyDestitution's child, born of an LA. street called "Shame"Growing up came quietly in the arms of Mabel JoyLaughter found their mornings brought a meaning to his lifeAnd the night before she left sleep came and left thatWaycross, country boyWith dreams of Georgia cotton and a California wife
Sunday morning found him standing 'neath the red light at her doorWhen a right cross sent him reeling, put him face down on the floorAnd in place of his Mabel Joy he found a merchant mad marineWho growled, "Your Georgia neck is red but Sonny you're still green"
He turned twenty-one in a grey rock federal prisonThe old judge had no mercy on that Waycross, Georgia boyStaring at those four grey walls, in silence he would listenTo the midnight freight he knew would take him back to Mabel Joy
Sunday morning found him lying 'neath the red light at her doorWith a bullet in his side, he cried "Have you seen Mabel Joy!"Stunned and shaken someone said "Son, she don't live here no moreShe left this house four years today, they say she's looking for ...Some Georgia farm boy