In the gravel yard, with a number for my name Making little rocks out of big rocks all day Oh, the work is mighty hard in the gravel yard I'll never Be a free man, so they say Warden hear my plea, listen now to me I killed a man that I caught with my wife You'd probably done the same, so I am not to blame Sentenced to the rest of my life In the driven rain with a ball and chain My hammer rings a low mournful sound It sings a little song for the ones who done me wrong who Lie beneath the cold, cold ground