Lord, I was born a ramblin’ man…
I was born one morning when the sun didn’t shine
I picked up my shovel and I walked to the mine
I loaded sixteen tons of number nine coal
And the boss-man said"Well, bless-a my soul"
I was born by the river, in a little tent,
And just like the river, I’ve been runnin’ ever since
“She was born in November 1963 the day Aldous Huxley died…”
Tuesday Night Music Club is one of most underrated alt-country albums ever (and yes, I would classify it as alt-country, even though it was poppy.)
I was born in the desert, raised in a lion’s den
I was booooorn to lick your face
I was booooorn to rub you,
but you were born to rub me first.
(well, not you specifically, Bricker. No offense.)
Born to hand-jive baby!
Before I was born late one night,
My Papa said everything’s alright
The doctor laughed,when mama laid down,
With a stomach bouncing all around
Mama gave birth to the hand-jive
[gravel voice ON] I was born under a wandering star [gravel voice OFF]
My father was a fisherman
My mama was a fisherman’s friend
And I was born in the boredom and the chowder
So when I reached my prime
I left my home in the Maritimes
Headed down the turnpike for New England, sweet New England
I was born in the Dublin street
Where the Loyalist drums did beat,
And those loving English feet
They walked all over us.
Tom Paxton’s excellent song based on Ron Kovic’s Vietnam war memoir “Born on the 4th of July”
I was born on the 4th of July.
No one more loyal than I.
When my country said so I was ready to go.
And I wish I’d been left there to die.
You were born to be my baby, and baby I was made to be your man
A child arrived just the other day, he came to the world in the usual way
I was born in 1968. Born to replace Bobby Kennedy. Yeah. Oh yeah. Oh yeah (well, it’s not popular, but it’s pop, okay?)
The truth be told, the child was born. Man your own jackhammer! (not pop, but popular)
[mondegreen]I was born without you, baby, but my feelings were a little bit too strong.[/mondegreen]
Actually, I heard it as “Class 5 hurricane.”
Bad luck wind been blowing on my back, I was born to bring trouble to wherever I’m at.
I was born in the soul of misery, never had me a name, they just gave me the Number when I was young.
I was born in the dirt, I never had no home.
Born a natural loser – can’t recall just where
Raised on brew and poker and a dollar here and there
He was born in the summer of his 27th year.
I was born… a poor black child.
(Steve Martin)
I wasn’t myself, but surely somebody here was born a coal miner’s daughter…?