Standing in the window with his tongue hanging out
Like the king of something evil in a yearlong drought
With a dirty white suit, a big white hat
A bullet in his pocket no matter where he's at
He's trouble, but ain't we all?
Trouble, but ain't we all?

His daughter was a looker, but five'll get you ten
He dressed her like a hooker and she smelled like sin
Had a ragtop car, she made good grades
Didn't like her daddy 'cause he wouldn't let her date
She was trouble, but ain't they all?
Trouble, but ain't they all?

Don't work for him, boy
It's like selling your soul
He'll turn his back and leave you
Way down in a hole

His daddy wasn't a good man
He owned most of the town
He bought up all the farmland
And tore up all the ground

Covered up the county with stone and creosote
Came to football games in a new fur coat
Had a real big wife, a real big grin
He gave thanks to Jesus for the shape that he was in
He was trouble, oh but ain't they all?
Trouble, but ain't they all?
Big sign on the roadside
Telling me how to live
A couple things that he done
Are real hard to forgive

So don't work for him, boy
It's like selling your soul
He'll walk away and he'll leave you
Way down in a hole