Текст песни Poor Boy Blues - Bo Weavil Jackson

I woke up this mornin', blues all 'round my bed
I woke up this morning, mama, blues all around my bed
Thinkin' about the words that my brown had said

'Cause I'm poor boy here, long ways from home
Poor boy here, long ways from my home
Ain't got nowhere, Lord, to lay my head

Cold frosty ground was my bed last night
Cold frosty ground was my bed last night
Thinkin' 'bout the kind words that my Mama had said

What my Mama told me, honey, done come to pass
Mama told me, it's done come to pass
Whiskey and women, poor boy, be your ruin at last

Now, my Mama's dead, so is my Daddy, too
My Mama's dead, so is my Daddy, too
Reason I tried so hard, honey, get along with you

So many days, I stoled away and cried
So many days, I stoled away and cried
Poor boy's been mistreated, can't be satisfied

Gonna write a letter, mail it in the air
Gonna write a letter, gonna mail it in the air
When that wind blows, blow news everywhere

Lord, Lord, ain't gonna moan no more
Lord, Lord ...