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Tim McGraw

de Chance McCoy & The Appalachian String Band

I'm broke as hell, down in this holler
Ain’t got a dime, ain’t got a dollar
The coal’s run dry, the jobs are gone
Just me and these blues from dusk ‘til dawn

Oh, I got them poverty blues
Ain’t no way to win, I'm bound to lose
Livin’ on scraps, and worn-out shoes
Singin’ these Appalachian poverty blues
The roof’s a-leakin’, the wind blows cold
Stories of hardship my granddad told
Moonshine’s brewin’, it’s all we got
To drown these troubles in a mason pot

Oh, I got them poverty blues
Ain’t no way to win, I'm bound to lose
Livin’ on scraps, and worn-out shoes
Singin’ these Appalachian poverty blues
The mountains whisper, they call my name
But the weight of wantin’ feels the same
Dreams get buried ‘neath this dirt and stone
In these hills, I'm poor and all alone

Oh, I got them poverty blues
Ain’t no way to win, I'm bound to lose
Livin’ on scraps, and worn-out shoes
Singin’ these Appalachian poverty blues

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