Georgia Blood

Marty RobbinsMarty Robbins 

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Marty Robbins

Martin David Robinson (September 26, 1925 – December 8, 1982), known professionally as Marty Robbins, was an American singer, songwriter, and multi-instrumentalist. One of the most popular and successful country and Western singers of his era, for most of his nearly four-decade career, Robbins was rarely far from the country music charts, and several of his songs also became pop hits. more »

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I step across the railroad track
Climb a fence and walk out through a field
And for a while I breath fresh air
And feel that sun I can't believe it's real

For eighteen months I've been locked up
Iron bars is all that I could see
I ran away from prison
I've been in the Nashville penitentiary

I came up here from Georgia
Everyone said I had talent I could write
Nashville's where the money is
They all said my songs are out of sight

So I caught a bus in Waycross
I enjoyed the ride a quiet winter night
Head straight to 16th avenue to show
The kind of songs that I could write

Well the first door that I opened
Was a wrong one and it's kinda like a dream
I met a music man that shook my hand
And said we both make quite a team

He handed me a contract
With a lot of words I didn't understand
But he told me not to worry
I could trust him 'cause he
Was an honest man
He told me I should get a job
So I hired on in a restaurant here in town
Wasn't very long 'til I heard
Some of my songs being played around

But he told me they weren't selling
Though a ballad I wrote went to number one
He said keep on writing keep your job
And bring me songs that you have done

I kept my job kept writing
'Cause I really thought I'd find
That pot of gold
But the story that I'm telling
Is a story that's been told and retold

He said he spent the money
I had made from promoting
Songs he really tried
It got so I could never see him
When he saw me coming he would hide

I waited for my money why it never came
I couldn't understand
'Til one day I saw him in a car
That must have cost at least ten grand

Then finally I caught him
And he said I'm sorry kid
You've had bad luck
He said go back to Georgia
Then he laughed and handed me a hundred bucks
I took the hundred dollars
And in a flash a thought
Was burning in my mind
I had a big surprise for him
And he'd regret he stole
Songs that were mine

My temper flared and I told myself
An hour from now he wouldn't be alive
Then I ran to a pawn shop
Where I bought an automatic forty-five

My temper got the best of me
For a while there was no guiding star
There was no one to talk to
So I walked back and I waited by his car

It wasn't very long until I saw
Him walking to the parking lot
Then I stepped out beside him and I said
Would you look here see what I've got

His face was white as powder
And he dropped the cigarette
He tried to light
He said don't pull that trigger
Lord have mercy please don't
Kill me here tonight

I'll give you all your money
If you'll wait until tomorrow
Then you'll see
But a Georgia boy don't like a thief
There was too much Georgia blood in me
So I pulled the trigger
And the bullet hit him squarely in the chest
Then I shot him one more time
For every button sewed upon his vest

It was then and only then I realized
The awful wrong that I had done
In disbelief I stood there 'til somebody
Walked up and they took the gun

I wish I'd never wrote a song
Or ever heard of Nashville Tennessee
I wish that I were home in Georgia
But I guess that I will never be

I wish I could stay here
Forever in this field so fresh and green
But better yet I wish that I could
Wake and find this just a dream

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