|
I've been gone a long time |
|
Lost in the seven seas. |
|
Sail on, don't you come back |
|
Until you learn the birds and the bees. |
|
Who will you find waiting for you, |
|
Squeeze blood into [in the ?] wine. |
|
Left to call my preacher |
|
And my very lovely wife. |
|
Chorus (1) |
|
I said, hey now, knocked down, why'd you do it, |
|
Roll me like a hurricane. |
|
All is a bust and |
|
I'm numb, like novocaine. |
|
Who done it, what's up, you said, |
|
Sell me out why don't you boy, |
|
I'm alone, severely broken, |
|
I'm a dislocated boy. |
|
I have thought to rise my dictions |
|
And I've suffocated my pride.(Be)fore you and |
|
I embarked on |
|
One hell of a ride. |
|
Boy, I've had these blues |
|
Since I been six years old. |
|
But tell me don't you worry(A)bout my very heavy load. |
|
Chorus (2) |
|
And I said, knock down, drag out, bar fight, |
|
Knuckles on the floor. and there's shattered glass, |
|
And one hell of a scar. |
|
Broke down and hungry, you said so. |
|
Sell me out, why don't you boy, |
|
I'm alone, severely broken, |
|
I'm a dislocated boy. |
|
All I need is my old guitar, |
|
And I'll play you the best damn blues. |
|
Heavy affections, and |
|
I hate to lose. |
|
Thirty-five years ago, |
|
I was born on |
|
Robert Johnson's. |
|
It's all been for you baby. |
|
I'm gonna make it back someday. |
|
Repeat Chorus (1) |
|
So tell me about your working class hero, baby |
|
Tell me 'bout your |
|
Mine was born in |
|
Mississippi, 'round 1923. |
|
Blue collar flannel shirts |
|
Was my Father's way. |
|
Worked in a factory,' |
|
Til his dying day. |
|
Repeat Chorus (2) |
