Mat Kearney - Rochester
I was born in Rochester to a book-making man
Had a fake cigar shop with the games on in the back
See them coming and going letting it ride on thorough breads
The police chief and Tom Hall wondering what was the spread
I carried rich mans bags through brier trying to chase down a little white ball
Learned that any soft place wasn't good for me at all
Daddy'd come home fired up looking for some sort of release
He'd beat the hell of Timmy and Timmy'd beat the hell out of me
I would hop the fence out to those government fields
Run till there was nothing left to feel
Lying there, watching, just disappear
Knowing one day I'm gonna fly on out of here
The same police chief came knocking my first freshman day
Put my daddy in handcuffs and his picture on the front page
Took every one of his suits and all my dignity
I'd walk the h