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