Written by - Jim Croce & Richard Croce

Sun come up in the morning

Blues round my head

I've got a troubled mind and plenty of time to roam

As I walk this crooked highway

Never knowin' where to go

You know the only life I know is bein' on the road



I've got holes in my shoes that I fill with paper

When the sun's out they dry

And when it rains well they get wet but I don't cry



Because the sun don't know no difference

Between a rich man and a bum

And the only life I know is movin' round the sky



See him grin down at you people

I guess you don't know what his laughter's from

But if you spend enough time on the road

Maybe you'd find out

Because the sun goes round in an endless circle

Never knowin' the reason why

Still there's something in the path that it traces round the sky

It's like a circle with no ending

But it's a race we all must run

And it's the same bein' a rich man or a bum