Talking to Myself Blues - Blind Willie McTell
Good Lord, good Lord, send me an angel down
Can't spare you no angel but i'll swear i'll send you a teasin' brown
That new way of loving Mama it must be best
These georgia women just won't let Mister Samuel rest
There was a crowd out on the corner, wondered who could it be
It won't a thing but the women trying to get to me
I even went down to the depot with my suitcase in my hand
Crowd of women runs crying, Mister Samuel won't you be my man
My mama, she told me, when I was a boy playing mumbly peg
Don't you drink no black cow's milk, don't you eat no black hen's egg
Black man give you a dollar mama, he won't think it's nothing strange
Yallar man give you a dollar but he'll want back ninety-five cents change
You may call me a cheater, pretty boy I will cheat you
If you allow me a chance i'll gnaw your backbone half in two
I took a trip out on the ocean, was the sound of the deep blue sea
I found a crab with a swim trying to do the shimmy-shea
I want to tell you something Mama, seems mighty doggone strange
You done mess around gal and made me break my yo-yo string
I ain't gonna be your old work ox no more
You done mess around babe and let your doggone ox get poor
My mama, she got a mojo, believe she try to keep it hid
Papa Samuel got something to find that mojo with
(take it from me)
I even heard a rumbling, deep down in the ground
It won't a thing but the women trying to run me down
(play it low and lonesome)
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