| Baby, baby, baby
|
| What’s wrong with Uncle Sam?
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| He’s cut down on my sugar
|
| Now he’s messin' with my ham
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| I got the ration blues
|
| Blue as I can be
|
| Oh, me, I’ve got those ration blues
|
| I got to live on forty ounces
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| Of any kind of meat
|
| Those forty little ounces
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| Gotta last me all the week
|
| I got to cut down on my jelly
|
| It takes sugar to make it sweet
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| I’m gonna steal all your jelly, baby
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| And rob you of your meat
|
| I got the ration blues
|
| Blue as I can be
|
| Oh, me, I’ve got those ration blues
|
| I like to wake up in the morning
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| With my jelly by my side
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| Since rationing started, baby
|
| You just take your stuff and hide
|
| They reduced my meat and sugar
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| And rubber’s disappearing fast
|
| You can’t ride no more with poppa
|
| 'Cause Uncle Sam wants my gas
|
| I got the ration blues
|
| Blue as I can be
|
| Oh, me, I’ve got those ration blues |