Trampin’s gittin’ pissed off enough to say fuck it to ev’rything an’ ev’rybody an’ git out. Things ain’t goin’ right, pick up an’ git the hell out. Don’t sit around complainin’ ‘bout it. Git out. Git yer roll, sling it over yer shoulder, an’ move. Got nothin’ holdin’ ya. It’s the lack a responsibility in this life. It’s what keeps a tramp a tramp. Get up an’ move whenever it suits ya. Only worry I got is where I’m gonna sleep at night an’ where my next meal’s comin’ from. That’s it. I ain’t worried ‘bout no one but myself. Don’t play no nursemaid to no one. I got enough trouble feedin’ my own goddamn self than to worry ‘bout someone else.
I been where those people out there are. Stabbin’ each other in the back, an’ makin’ like they’s doin’ ya a favor. I’ve seen the way society works. Gimme trampin’ anytime. Trampin’s hard times, damn sure is. A tramp knows how to git along in hard times ‘cause hard times is all a tramp knows. Now, if hard times come to those people in society, them people livin’ in houses, they’s the ones really gonna suffer. They ain’t use to livin’ this-a-way. There’d be a lot of ‘em couldn’t make it; they been livin’ a soft life too long.