Bastard Child

Well momma never was no angel,
Daddy never was no saint
There ain’t a pretty childhood picture
these family lines can paint
This ain’t no sob story
This ain’t no complaint
Hell, I’m proud of who I am
Proud of what I ain’t
Cause I was born a bastard child,
Daddy run off and momma run wild
I got a crooked cowboy smile
I walk a crooked country mile
Coulda done worse, shoulda done better
Momma woulda tried if the bottle ever let her,
I ain’t prince or a pile,
ain’t doing bad for a bastard child
I was a fathers only son of a bitch
one the family never claimed
and you can bet I didn’t grow up rich
and never really had a last name
I bear the mark of the bastard child
but I wear it with no shame
for any good or bad I’ve done
I’ll take the credit and the blame
Cause I was born a bastard child,
Daddy run off and momma run wild
I got a crooked cowboy smile
I walk a crooked country mile
Coulda done worse, shoulda done better
Momma woulda tried if the bottle ever let her,
I ain’t prince or a pile,
ain’t doing bad for a bastard child
Well I’m a son of the earth
a real bad seed
All I’ll ever be worth
is all I’ll ever need
I’m just thankful for my birth
and for my family
or else I wouldn’t be me
Cause I was born a bastard child,
Daddy run off and momma run wild
I got a crooked cowboy smile
I walk a crooked country mile
Coulda done worse, shoulda done better
Momma woulda tried if the bottle ever let her,
I ain’t prince or a pile,
ain’t doing bad for a bastard child
I grew up fast, grew up wild,
ain’t doing bad for a bastard child