He said he discovered America with nothin' but a paper sack
The first sight he remembered was the Statue of Liberty's back.
He lost his mama on the Brooklyn street when he was just thirteen
He made his way out west; he'd seen some pictures in a magazine
He worked a while as a roughneck in the Floydada Black Oil fields
And the Fat Oilmen of Texas would watch him a-tap his heels
As the oil poured in and the cotton grew and the Cadillacs fell like rain
He did the work of a dozen men and never did complain
If you added up his troubles they'd fill the prairie sky
But he lived more in an hour than most men in their lives
He never preached a sermon and an angel he ain't
But anyone can tell you he's a Hard Luck Saint
He worked his way to a cotton town down Highway 84
And that is where i met him in a used clothing store
With my mama and my papa, little Mark and Muleshoe Bill
I still remember tearstains on a dusty window sill
If you added up his troubles they'd fill the prairie sky
But he lived more in an hour than most men in their lives
He never preached a sermon and an angel he ain't
But anyone can tell you he's a Hard Luck Saint
He never stayed around long but he never said 'goodbye'
No tellin' where he went to, he walked a rugged mile
He might just pass through your town one of these a-hard luck days
And pass right through to the other side goin' his hard luck ways
If you added up his troubles they'd fill the prairie sky
He lived more in an hour than most men in their lives
He never preached a sermon and an angel he ain't
But anyone can tell you he's a Hard Luck Saint
Writer(s): Joe Ely
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