GTT

My mother said I’d be all right someday when the sap went down / 
But the still won’t run, I sold my mule, and I aint cut out for a plow / 
Kate’s up the duff and crazy, told her old daddy it’s mine / 
Now he’s at the door with a horsewhip—reading the sign / 

Scratch it on the window, write it on the door / 
Paint it on the barn, gouge it in the floor / 
Nail it to a fencepost, carve it in a tree / 
Just three letters—GTT, Gone to Texas / 

Spurring this old piece of crowbait to the river by dawn / 
Just got a Tennessee Toothpick and the suit I have on / 
That dandy I cut at the bit house was the sheriff’s son / 
Aint waiting to see how the cat jumps, got to run / 

Chorus / 

The Boss got mad at the Devil—said, “You’re running that place in the ground” / 
He deputized some angels to take a look around / 
Nobody home in the junkyard, just broken-down wagons and weeds / 
And some paint on the side of the privy—said, “GTT” / 

Scratch it on the window, write it on the door / 
Paint it on the barn, gouge it in the floor / 
Look out, Sam, aint seen the like of me / 
Here I come, I’m GTT, 
Gone to Texas