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Well I've been down on the row and I'm livin' so low |
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(That) I'd sell you my britches fo' a nickel |
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I done spent all my bread just to screw up my head |
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An' that ol' reaper is comin' with his sickle |
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I'd get down in the mud (just) for one little shot |
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Trade you for a bottle everything I got |
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It's the devil's own so brother take heed |
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Don't go plantin' that ol' Whiskey Seed |
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I don't know where I been ain't no where or no when |
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And my liver's so bad I'm turnin' yellow |
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Occupation's a bum an' (a) zero's my sum |
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Got the D.T.'s so bad I look like Jell-O |
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Well the gutter's my bed, the paper's my sheet |
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You can find me lyin' out in the street |
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It's the devil's own so brother take heed |
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Don't go plantin' that ol' Whiskey Seed |
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(Well) Now I'm feelin' so low I got nowhere to go |
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If I found a big hole I think I'd crawl in |
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And I wisht' I could hide 'cause it feels like I died |
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And I hear that ol' bottle still a-callin' |
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But I'm tryin' to find a way to get out |
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Sometimes makes me want to jump and shout |
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It's the devil's own so brother take heed |
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Don't go plantin' that ol' Whiskey Seed |
