Classic Poem

You may search
the ocean,
you might go 'cross the deep blue sea;
but mama you'll never find
another hot shot like me.

I followed
my baby
from the station to the train,
and the blues came down
like dark night showers of rain.

I left her
at the station
wringing her hands and crying;
I told her she had a home
just as long as I got mine.

I've got
two women
and you can't tell 'em apart;
I got one in my bosom,
the other one in my heart.

The one
in my bosom —
she's in Tennessee;
and the one in my heart
don't even give a darn for me.

I used to say
a married woman
was the sweetest thing that ever been born;
but I've changed that thing:
you better let married women alone.

Take my
advice:
let these married women be;
'cause their husbands 'll grab you,
beat you ragged as a cedar tree.

When a woman
say she love you
'bout good as she do herself,
I don't pay her no 'tention —
tell that same line to somebody else.

I really
don't believe
no woman in the whole round world do right:
act like an angel in the daytime,
mess by the ditch at night.

I'm going
pretty mama,
please don't break this rule;
that's why I'm searching
these deserts for the blues.

I'm going
pretty mama,
searching these deserts now;
that's why I'm walking
my baby home any how.
Lord
oh lord
lordy lordy lord
oh lordy lord
lord lord lord.

When a woman
say she love you
'bout good as she do herself,
I don't pay her no 'tention —
tell that same line to somebody else.

Lord lord
lord lord lord.