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Feeling funny in my mind, Lord, |
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I believe I'm fixing to die, 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 |
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To that burying ground |
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Look over yonder |
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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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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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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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And tell Jesus |
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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 |
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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. |
