Lyrics:

I'm a poor boy born in a rubble
And some say my manners ain't the best
And some of my friends, yeah, they've been in real trouble
And some say I'm no better than the rest
But tell your mama and your papa
Sometimes good guys don't wear white

Yeah, every day, baby, I work hard
And it's true at night I spend the restless time
But those rich kids and all that lazy money
Can't hold a candle to mine
So tell your mama and your papa
Sometimes good guys don't wear white

Good guys, bad guys, which is which?
The white collar worker or the digger in the ditch?
Hey, and who's to say who's the better man
When I've always done the best I can?

A-bad words and dirty minds
All those messed-up chicks of the changin' times
White pills and easy livin'
Can't replace the love I've given
So tell your mama and your papa
Sometimes good guys don't wear white

Ha! I mean to tell ya
You better tell your mama and your papa somethin'
I'll split off by myself with another chick, yeah
Ah, it's just a kick
You think those guys in the white collars are better than I am baby?
Then flake off!
You don't dig this long hair? Get yourself a crewcut, baby!
Yeah, I mean what I say