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Hey you with the guitar. |
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Where did you play last night? |
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I do believe it was in Memphis, |
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But I can't remember right now. |
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'Cause I been foul politicin' |
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And I acted in fear to be. |
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I had to get up five this morning |
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With them bells playing in my head. |
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Sometimes I work so hard, |
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I'm gonna play my fingers to the bone. |
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Well, I can boogie, boogie, |
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Boogie on my way back home. |
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Well, I've been workin' every night |
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For the pastes buy meats and needs. |
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I'm gonna finish up tomorrow night |
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And turn myself a plane back east. |
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I'm gonna do my work |
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So I can help my pain and rest. |
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Well, I'll be back here someday soon |
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Hope I can give my best. |
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Sometimes I work so hard, |
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I'm gonna play my fingers to the bone. |
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And now I can boogie, boogie, |
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Boogie on my way back home. |
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Yeah. |
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Well, my axe is gettin' rusty |
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And an old slow demon I seem to be. |
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The throat is gettin' dusty, |
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Before it's gone that I had thrifty hands. |
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Well, I've been up for heart breakin' |
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And I had to keep my men to pay. |
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I had to catch a plane this morning |
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With them bells ringing in my head. |
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Sometimes I work so hard, |
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I'm gonna, gonna play my fingers to the bone, hooh. |
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Well, now I can boogie, boogie, |
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Boogie on my way back home. |
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Said I learned to boogie, boogie, |
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Boogie on my way back home. |
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I can boogie, boogie, |
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Boogie on my way back home. |
