Life In the Factory

Let me tell y'all a story So far-fetched it must be true 'Bout a bunch of fatherless boys from Florida One is man enough for two Practiced 12 hours a day in the hell house In the swamps outside of town One hundred degrees without no open windows Heat radiatin' off the tin They named their band Lynyrd Skynyrd After the coach who kicked them out of school Seven days a week 'cause rock's the only thing To save them from life in the factory They spent years inside the hell house Then they opened for The Stones and The Who Three hundred souls a year, outdoor, summer festivals Them boys' wouldn't even break a sweat They hit the road doing 90 Leave them steel mills far behind Ain't no good life there at the Ford plant Three guitars or a life of crime Sold out shows and platinum records, New York critics and redneckers Bunch of boys from Florida had them eating from their hands They had the fame and all the glory But folks, it's still some sad story when legend overshadows the songs and the band Let me tell y'all a story That more or less is the truth From the swamps of Northern Florida To the swamps just north of Baton Rouge