| Now asks sweet mama
|
| Lemme be her kid
|
| She says, 'I might get boogied
|
| Like to keep it hid'
|
| Well, she looked at me
|
| She be-gin to smile
|
| Says, 'I thought I would use you
|
| For my man a while
|
| 'Tha-at you just don’t my husband
|
| Catch you there
|
| Now, just-just don’t let my
|
| Husband catch you there'
|
| Now, went upstair
|
| To pack my leavin' trunk
|
| I never saw no whiskey
|
| The blues done made me, sloppy drunk
|
| Say, I never saw no whiskey
|
| Blues done made me sloppy drunk
|
| Now, I never saw no whiskey
|
| But the blues done made me sloppy drunk
|
| Now some said, disease
|
| Some said it was, degree’in
|
| But it’s the slow consumption
|
| Killin' you by degrees
|
| Lord, it’s the slow consumption
|
| Killin' you by degrees
|
| Now, it’s-a slow consumption
|
| An it’s killin' you by degrees |