| Good Lord, good Lord, send me an angel down
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| Can’t spare you no angel, I’ll send you a teasin' brown
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| That new way of loving, swear it must be the best
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| These Georgia women won’t let Mr. McTell rest
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| There was a cry on the corner, went to see what it could be
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| Must be some women, tryin' to get the best of me
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| Went down to the sheriff, suitcase in my hand
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| All the women run cryin', saying, «Mr. |
| Mac, won’t you be my man?»
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| My baby studyin' evil, and I’m studyin' evil too
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| Gonna hang round here to see what my baby gon' do
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| I can’t be trusted, and I can’t be satisfied
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| When the men see me comin', they go pin their womens to their side
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| Love my loving, like to get it any time of day
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| To get my right lovin', I’m going to south Georgia right away
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| I got three womens, yellow, brown and black
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| Take the governor of Georgia to judge which one I like
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| One woman’s Atlanta yellow, the other is Macon brown
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| But the Statesboro blackskin will turn your damper1 down
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| So bye bye baby; |
| I’ll see you some sweet day
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| And you’ll be sorry you drove your man away |