|
On a Greyhound bus, Lord, I'm traveling this morning |
|
I'm going to Shreveport and down to New Orleans |
|
Been traveling these highways, I been doing things my way |
|
It's been making me lonesome, ornery and mean |
|
Now, her hair was jet black, and her name was Colene |
|
Thought she was the cream of the Basin Street queens |
|
She got tired of that smokey wine dream |
|
Began to feel lonesome, ornery and mean |
|
And we got together, and we cashed in our sweeps |
|
Gave 'em to a beggar who was mumbling through the streets |
|
There's no escaping from his snowy white dream |
|
He was born lookin' lonesome, ornery and mean |
|
Now, I'm down in this valley, where the wheels turn so low |
|
At dawn, I pray to the Lord of my soul |
|
I pray, dear Lord, do right by me |
|
You know I'm tired of being lonesome, ornery and mean |
|
Odelay-oo |
