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