2 acessos
D Oh, it's going down the road feeling bad G D Bad luck's all I've ever had G D Going down the road feeling bad, Lord, Lord A D And I ain't' a-gonna be treated this a-way D Got me way down in jail on my knees G D This old jailer he sure is hard to please G D Feed me on corn, bread and peas, Lord, Lord A D And I ain't gonna be treated this a-way D Sweet mama, won't you buy me no shoes G D Lord, she's left me with these lonesome jailhouse blues G D My sweet mama won't buy me no shoes, Lord, Lord A D And I ain't a-gonna be treated this a-way D And these two-dollar shoes they hurt my feet G D The jailer won't gi'me enough to eat G D Lord, these two-dollar shoes they hurt my feet, Lord, Lord A D And I ain't a-gonna be treated this a-way D I'm going where the climate suits my clothes G D Lord, I'm going where these chilly winds never blow (hmmhmm) G D Going where the climate suits my clothes, Lord, Lord A D And I ain't a-gonna be treated this a-way G D Yes, I'm going down the road feeling bad, Lord, Lord Lord, I'm going down this road feeling bad G D Bad luck is all I've ever had (it sure is) A D And I ain't a-gonna be treated this a-way