Moaning the Blues
Oh, the blues got ways sometimes just like a natural man
I don't care which away you turn, they always is on your hands
Won't you tell me, baby, how come you don't come back home?
Won't you tell me, baby, how come you don't come back home?
I lay down last night with my back door open all night long
Here come the blues this morning, just 'fore day they shut my door
Here come the blues this morning, just 'fore day they s hut my door
But the lord forgive me, I won't have them things no more
This morning, setting on the side of my bed
This morning, setting on the side of my bed
(They done come) brought you a letter (for) your plumb good man fell dead
(spoken: Blues, what must I do?)
Hmmmmm, hmmmmm
Hmmmmm, hmmmmm
Hmmmmm, hmmmmm
Autor(es): Joe McCoy / Lizzie Douglas