You're the travelin' kind"
He let me call long distance
I had a good, hardy jailor
I saw a Greyhound comin'
I take you down the road
I was feelin' mighty hungry
He said, "Forty five dollars
No credit line
'Cause a little boy tells me
You're twenty one
Give me cash on the barrelhead
But the entire sum
An' the wheels will roll
He made his point
No time to chase you
For loafin' on the street
'Cause I'm a busy man"
My feet, a heavy load
No money down
When the engine starts
This old, gray dog gets paid to run
No credit plan
Well, the judge said guilty
Lord, they put me in the jail house
Said, "That'll be cash on the barrelhead, hon
I found a telephone number
"That'll be cash on the barrelhead, hon
The driver caught my arm
With a six gun hip
No money down
You can take your choice
Cash on the barrelhead
Stuck out my thumb
As soon as I was seated
Not part, not half
Four days on the road
She said, "Number, please"
Said, "That'll be cash on the barrelhead, hon
She shouted back at me
Or thirty days in the joint"
An' just as soon as I told her
On a laundry slip
Thirty days in the jail house
