The Ballad of Floyd Lanning

I was a poor boy from Oklahoma
Dusty shoes on my feet
Born to a housewife and a farmer
My three brothers and me
My brother Leon he caught sick
Passed away when we were boys
Grew up singing Jimmie Rodgers
A doll made of sticks was my only toy
Life of a gangster seemed so grand
So I moved to the city
Just a little money in my hand

46 in Arizona
Met Marty Robbins at Freddy's club
Started playin' for the night crowd
Man things were really pickin' up
Made it down to Hollywood to record
Played on his first record
But had plans to do so many more

Music brought me to Cleveland
Living fast on the run
Already been with two wives
But there I found me a third one

Always liked the idea of racin'
Always admired fancy cars
So I started to build one
Deciding the color was the hard part

In '67 God gave me a little girl
Such a pretty little baby
She gave meaning to this crazy world
But it wasn't easy being married
To a lovin' but drinking wife
It's hard to make a person
Doing wrong
Do right

Marty said pack your bags and move to Franklin
You can live here on my farm
Helped me record my own record
But then something went wrong
And I can't tell ya how many cars he asked me to fix
Or how much money he never paid me
But I never asked
Cause he said he'd help me with my music

One day his right hand man was lookin'
To try and prove he could out do me
But I cut him down
And spat in his face sayin': "Why can't you hit me?"

Heard from a distance that Marty died
I stopped playin' soon after
Never made it big but I sure tried

But I got my name on a couple songs
I got my race car I'm workin' on
My little girl is now a lady
I know she misses me now
That I'm gone
But I left her everything I knew
And she's so damn strong
I know she'll make it through
So when you make it here
I'll be waiting for you



Credits
Writer(s): Erica Pilgreen
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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