| I’m not fit
|
| To be in the company of women.
|
| I drink a bit,
|
| I smell like the jungles of India
|
| I curse and I spit,
|
| I know I’m gonna be mean to ya
|
| I’m not fit,
|
| To even be anywhere near ya
|
| Don’t be down on me
|
| Don’t be down on me
|
| Don’t be down, down on me
|
| Don’t be down on me
|
| I had a gal,
|
| I left her on Strawberry Hill
|
| I should’ve stuck around,
|
| And helped her pay the electric bill
|
| I left her lights
|
| Burning all night long down there
|
| And it ain’t right if you ain’t gonna pay your share
|
| Now,
|
| Don’t be down on me
|
| Don’t be down on me
|
| Don’t be down, down on me
|
| Don’t be down on me
|
| I’ve had my fortunes told,
|
| I’ve had my time unrolled,
|
| And I don’t want to die alone
|
| So, take me home, take me home,
|
| Take me home… tonight
|
| I’m no good,
|
| at asking please or saying thank you
|
| I’ll lick your knife,
|
| and butter your toast with a rusty spoon
|
| I’ll talk all night and
|
| I won’t even tell you how pretty you are
|
| I’m impolite, I’ll drink you up in a dirty jar
|
| Don’t be down on me
|
| Don’t be down on me
|
| Don’t be down, down on me |
| Don’t be down on me |