Sing Song Blues - Bob Coleman; F position, standard tuning.
Is you ever been down, mama, you know just how I feel
And is you ever been down, little mama, you know just how I feel
And is you ever been down, little mama, I swear you know how a prisoner feels
I ain't got nobody on outside to play in the field
And I laid in prison with my face turned to the wall
And I laid in prison, my face turned to the wall
And I laid in prison, with my face turned to the wall
There's a no-good Crow Jane woman was the cause of it all
And it's a many old days I dropped my weary head and cried
And it's a many old days I dropped my weary head and cried
And it's a many old days I dropped my weary head and cried
I did not have no blue blues, mama, just wasn't satisfied
It's pull on your race horse, put on your derby, too
It's pull on your race horse, put on your derby, too
It's pull on your race horse, mama, it's put on your derby, too
I ain't got nobody, this wide world, to love me true
And I looked in the death cell and dropped my weary head and cried
And I looked in the death cell and dropped my weary head and cried
And I looked in the death cell, and I dropped my weary head and cried
I told the Sing Sing Prison boys, "This ain't like being on the outside."
And if it hadn't been for you, little mama, I would not been here
And if it hadn't been for you, little mama, I would not been here
And if it hadn't been for you, oh little mama, I would not been here
I drinkin' wine, whiskey, mama, and your home-brewed beer
Is you ever been down, mama, you know just how I feel
And is you ever been down, little mama, you know just how I feel
And is you ever been down, little mama, I swear you know how a prisoner feels
I ain't got nobody on outside to play in the field
And I laid in prison with my face turned to the wall
And I laid in prison, my face turned to the wall
And I laid in prison, with my face turned to the wall
There's a no-good Crow Jane woman was the cause of it all
And it's a many old days I dropped my weary head and cried
And it's a many old days I dropped my weary head and cried
And it's a many old days I dropped my weary head and cried
I did not have no blue blues, mama, just wasn't satisfied
It's pull on your race horse, put on your derby, too
It's pull on your race horse, put on your derby, too
It's pull on your race horse, mama, it's put on your derby, too
I ain't got nobody, this wide world, to love me true
And I looked in the death cell and dropped my weary head and cried
And I looked in the death cell and dropped my weary head and cried
And I looked in the death cell, and I dropped my weary head and cried
I told the Sing Sing Prison boys, "This ain't like being on the outside."
And if it hadn't been for you, little mama, I would not been here
And if it hadn't been for you, little mama, I would not been here
And if it hadn't been for you, oh little mama, I would not been here
I drinkin' wine, whiskey, mama, and your home-brewed beer