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Well, every morning about this time, |
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she gets me out of my bed cryin' |
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And at breakfast every day, |
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she throws the want ads my way |
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And never fails to say, get a job |
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Well, when I get the paper, |
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I read it through and through |
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And my girl never fails to see |
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if there is any work for me |
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And then I go back to the house, |
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hear that woman's mouth |
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Preaching and cryin', |
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tellin' me I'm lyin' about a job |
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That I never could find |
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Well, when I get the paper, |
|
I read it through and through |
|
And my girl never fails to see |
|
if there is any work for me |
|
And then I go back to the house |
|
I hear that woman's mouth |
|
Preaching and cryin', |
|
tellin' me I'm lyin' about a job |
|
That I never could find |
