Lyrics:

I steal my cigs from
The seven-six
Smoking up in church,
Up to all my tricks
I'm a bad little angel,
I fell from grace
A Georgia peach gone bad,
Yeah, you know the taste

If you must know
What I think of you
So help me, lord, I'm
Gonna speak the truth

And I try
And I try, try, try
And I try to do right

But I got trouble in mind
I got trouble in mind

Born under a bad sign
Like Albert King
He played the matchbox
Blues I like to sing
I'll break you heart
Baby for the kicks
I'm a bonafide slacker
And I like a quick fix

I could behave,
But what's the use
So help me, lord, I've
Got to cut loose

And I try
And I try, try, try
And I try to do right

But I got trouble in mind
I got trouble in mind

I shiver and shake, I
Moan and I ache
Oh, doctor gotta give me
Something for this pain
'Cause I got trouble in mind

I got to Paris, all the
Lights went down
They built the Berlin
Wall to keep me out
I broke your heart from
Thirty thousand feet
They post a danger sign
Everywhere I sleep

'Cause I got trouble in mind
I got trouble in mind
I got trouble in mind
I got trouble in mind

I shiver and shake, I
Moan and I ache
Oh, doctor gotta give me
Something for this pain
'Cause I got trouble in mind