Merle Haggard - Please Mr. D.J.

Living on the road my friend, is gonna keep you free and clean
Now you wear your skin like iron,
Your breath as hard as kerosene.
You weren't your mama's only boy, but her favorite one it seems
She began to cry when you said goodbye,
And sank into your dreams.
Pancho was a bandit boys, his horse was fast as polished steel
He wore his gun outside his pants
For all the honest world to feel.
Pancho met his match you know on the deserts down in Mexico
Nobody heard his dying words, ah but that's the way it goes.

All the Federales say they could have had him any day
They only let him slip away out of kindness, I suppose.