Prisoner

I shot a man down in New Orleans Now I'm wearing a ball and chain I work all day 'til the evening comes Breaking up rocks in the hot, hot sun They make my shirts out of cotton sacks Big black numbers sewed on my back I work so hard 'til my hands get numb Breaking up rocks in the hot, hot sun The boss man said, "You better work a little harder Oh, I ain't gonna give you no water" Lord, I'd like to get out of here, like to get away If I had me some place to run, y'all But a shotgun tell me I better stay And break those rocks in the hot, hot sun Uh Mm, alright Breaking them rocks