Lyrics Lonesome Road Blues - Bill Monroe

Lonesome Road Blues

I’m going down this road feeling bad
I’m going down this road feeling bad
I’m going down this road feeling bad, lord, lord
And I ain’t a-gonna be treated this a-way
Down in the jailhouse on my knees
Down in the jailhouse on my knees
Down in the jailhouse on my knees, Great God
And I ain’t a-gonna be treated this a-way
They feed me on corn bread and beens
They feed me on corn bread and beens
They feed me on corn bread and beens, O lord
And I ain’t a-gonna be treated this a-way
I ain’t got no shoes on my feet
I ain’t got no shoes on my feet
I ain’t got no shoes on my feet, Lord God
And I ain’t a-gonna be treated this a-way
It takes a ten dollar shoe to fit my foot
It takes a ten dollar shoe to fit my foot
It takes a ten dollar shoe to fit my foot, Great God
And I ain’t a-gonna be treated this a-way
I’m going where the climate suits my clothes
I’m going where the climate suits my clothes
I’m going where the climate suits my clothes, O lord
And I ain’t a-gonna be treated this a-way
I’m goin' if I never get back
I’m goin' if I never get back
I’m goin' if I never get back, LOrd God
And I ain’t a-gonna be treated this a-way