Made in America

I ain’t sure why things turn out the way they do
And it never gets easier
To rid myself of these lowdown filthy blues
I can get along with devil but I hate his wicked son
And don’t tell me 'bout your problems
'Cause I know that you really ain’t got a damn one
But I was made in America
Forged out of red clay and Georgia rain
I learned how to fight and drink and pray
And live right through the pain
I can’t tell apart when I win or when I lose
And I’m the God-fearing kind
'Cause I’ve seen all the goddamn things he do
And I’m gon' get what’s mine, then I’m gon' give you some more
I heard that death rattle come for me
Trying to bust through the chains on my back door
But I was made in America
Forged out of red clay and Georgia rain
If you got friends on the other side
Won’t you put a good word to my name
I worked my whole damn life
For someone else’s dime
So I’m of this conviction
Oh it’s just barely getting by
You know it ain’t
But I was made in America
Forged out of red clay and Georgia rain
If you got friends on the other side
Won’t you put a good word to my name
'Cause I was made in America
Forged out of red clay and Georgia rain