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Feeling funny in my mind, Lord |
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I believe I'm fixing to die |
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Feeling funny in my mind, Lord |
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I believe I'm fixing to die |
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Well, I don't mind dying |
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But I hate to leave my children crying |
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Well, I look over yonder to that burying ground |
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Look over yonder to that burying ground |
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Sure seems lonesome, Lord |
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When the sun goes down |
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Feeling funny in my eyes, Lord |
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I believe I'm fixing to die, fixing to die |
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Feeling funny in my eyes, Lord |
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I believe I'm fixing to die |
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Well, I don't mind dying but |
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I hate to leave my children crying |
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Well there's a black smoke rising, Lord |
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It's rising up above my head, up above my head |
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Well there's a black smoke rising, Lord |
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It's rising up above my head |
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And tell Jesus make up my dying bed |
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I'm walking kind of funny, Lord |
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I believe I'm fixing to die, fixing to die |
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Yes I'm walking kind of funny, Lord |
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I believe I'm fixing to die, fixing to die, fixing to die |
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Well, I don't mind dying |
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But I hate to leave my children crying |
