My cell daddy always tellin' me to sing....

My cell daddy always tellin' me to sing. He liked the way I sing.

And so I do. 'Cuz I know what he do to me if I don't.

Know what I do while I'm singin'? I go home. I make my song take me to Chattanooga. My sister open the door, and she see me. And I smile. And she scream! (in pain) AHHHH! (hurting) OOOH! OH GOD, WHERE'S MAMA?! Oh mama! Oh mama! I be thinkin' about breakfast! I be thinkin' about this big breakfast my mama gonna make me! Oh God, I make myself think about that! Oh mama!! MAMA!

(then, the pain abating)

Oh God, I promise I won't never ride no freight no more, mama. Just lemme be home again. Lemme be home. Just lemme be home.

(a moment, then:)

"My little lamb," he say to me when he through, "sound so beautiful when you sing. Sing that first one again," he'd say.

(then, his thoughts back in the present:)

I ain't singing no more.