Turpentine Blues

歌詞

Goin' home in the mornin', woman, I sure can't carry you Spoken: Aw, no! Goin' home in the mornin', Lord, I sure can't carry you Spoken: Ain't gonna carry nobody, that's the main thing Ain't nothin' up down there, Lord, a monkey woman can do I don't want no jet-black woman, Lord, to cook no pie for me Spoken: Don't cook nor iron I don't want no jet-black woman, Lord, to cook no pie for me Spoken: What kind of man are you? 'Cause black is evil, I'm scared she might poison me Some men love high yellow, boy, you give me my black or b'own Some men love high yellow, boy, you give me my black or b'own Spoken: That's good notice! 'Cause your b'own be with you when the yellow puts you down Spoken: Oh, Mr. Will, play it! Says, I wonder would it, boy, a matchbox hold my clothes Spoken: Matchbox, now? And I wonder would a matchbox hold my clothes Spoken: You know how much there ain't? I ain't got nothing I ain't got so many, Lord, I got so far to go Gonna wash my face in the dear old Mexico Gonna wash my face in dear old Mexico Spoken: I'm gonna be back here, though Gonna eat my breakfast, thousand miles or more Now, what you gonna do, boy, when your troubles get like mine? What you gonna do, boy, when your troubles get like mine? Take you a mouthful of sugar, boy, and drink a bottle of turpentine