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Country Blues (aka Hustling Gamblers)   78 version

(traditional, with some verses by Dock Boggs)

Come all you good time people,
While I've got money to spend,
Tomorrow might be Monday
And I'll neither have a dollar nor a friend.

When I had plenty of money, good people,
My friends were all standing around,
Just as soon as my pocket book was empty,
Not a friend on earth to be found.

Last time I seen my little woman, good people,
She had a wine glass in her hand;
She was drinking down her troubles
With a low-down sorry man.

Oh, my daddy taught me a-plenty, good people;
My mama, she taught me more.
If I didn't quit my rowdy ways,
Have trouble at my door.

I wrote my woman a letter, good people;
I told her I's in jail.
She wrote me back an answer
Saying "Honey, I'm a-coming to go your bail."

All around this old jailhouse is haunted, good people;
Forty dollars won't pay my fine.
Corn whisky has surrounded my body, poor boy,
Pretty women is a-troubling my mind.

Give me corn bread when I'm hungry, good people;
Corn whiskey when I'm dry;
Pretty women a-standing around me;
Sweet heaven when I die.

If I'd a-listened to my mama, good people,
I wouldn't have been here today;
But a-drinking and a-shooting and a-gambling,
At home I cannot stay.

Go dig a hole in the meadow, good people,
Go did a hole in the ground.
Come around all you good people
And see this poor rounder go down.

When I am dead and buried
My pale face turned to the sun,
You can come around and mourn, little woman,
And think the way you have done.

Long Time Coming © 1999 - 2001