I was born and raised down in Alabama On a farm way back up in the woods I was so ragged that folks used to call me Patches Papa used to tease me about it ‘Cause deep down inside he was hurt ‘Cause he’d done all he could My papa was a great old man I can see him with a shovel in his hands, see Education he never had He did wonders when the times got bad The little money from the crops he raised Barely paid the bills we made For, life had kick him down to the ground When he tried to get up Life would kick him back down One day Papa called me to his dyin’ bed Put his hands on my shoulders And in his tears he said He said, Patches I’m dependin’ on you, son To pull the family through My son, it’s all left up to you Two days later Papa passed away, and I became a man that day So I told Mama I was gonna quit school, but She said that was Daddy’s strictest rule So ev’ry mornin’ ‘fore I went to school I fed the chickens and I chopped wood too Sometimes I felt that I couldn’t go on I wanted to