Never lived in LAnnever shot anyonennever lived in New York Citynand still managed to have some funnI work my fields then I hit my kneesnand pray for the tears of heaven to help me pleasenyou never heard of me but it’s not my faultnblame it on the death of Charles KuraltnnMy truck’s got 100,000 on itnand it still runs finenmy kid’s stay dry and warmnand all of ‘em are minenmet my wife in high school and I chased her downnshe’s still the prettiest girl in this here townnain’t got nothing to hide but it’s not my faultnblame it on the death of Charles KuraltnnFireworks paint a picturenbut some will never seenwhat those city lightsnain’t doing for menblame it on the death of Charles KuraltnnSo I’ll take my tripnto the general storenOld Joe doesn’t even asknwhat I need anymorensays he can tell by my walk and the mood I’m innstill got my daddy’s credit from way back whennyou never heard of me but it’s not my faultnblame it on the death of Charles Kuralt