house of pain

wise men say, that a poor mother's child, lives his life in vain, if he doesn't visit lour, the house of pain, at the age of 4 my momma don died, my daddy started in drinking, and he left me by, an orphanage doors said: get the rest of your life for thinking, now, at the age of 8, thoughts filled my mind, i had to run had to run away, and i met a bomb by the name of joe, and he told me i could stay, now, now joe said, earn your key, boy!, man's gotta work for every meal, and joe he told me how to rob load, he taught me how to steal, at age 13, i was a restless lad, and joe said little drinking do you know harm, but by 15 years a drinking meant nothin', compared to this holes in my arm, now i'm not a violent man, i can't stand killing, without reason to be done, but when my friend joe started stealing my brandy, shot him with a second hand gun, but people don't know, what pain it is runnin', so we gonna manner 30 cries with tears, but i've been livin' on crammers and sterno, not under 15 years, my strength is gone, my eyes are closin', it's gettin' dark, and oh, so cold, but it's nice and warm, in the place i'll be going to, will probably have me a shoveling coal, now, so let it now to be said, that a man ain't believin', that he spent his life in vain, 'cause i spend 30 cold windy thirsty years, inside the house of pain, now, inside the house of pain, inside the house of pain