Well, I woke up in the morning
There's frogs inside my socks
Your mama, she's a-hidin'
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Ramblin' outa the wild West
Leavin' the towns I love the best
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I am a man of constant sorrow
I've seen trouble all my days
I'll say goodbye to Colorado
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I've been around this whole country
But I never yet found Fenneario
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Well, in my time of dying don't want nobody to mourn
All I want for you to do is take my body home
Well, well, well, so I can die easy
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They're selling postcards of the hanging
They're painting the passports brown
The beauty parlor is filled with sailors
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Johnny's in the basement
Mixing up the medicine
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Well I don't know why I love you like I do
Nobody in the world can get along with you.
You got the ways of a devil sleeping in a lion's den
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Feeling funny in my mind, Lord,
I believe I'm fixing to die, fixing to die
Feeling funny in my mind, Lord
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I first heard this from Ric von Schmidt. He lives in Cambridge.
Ric is a blues guitarplayer. I met him one day on
The green pastures of the Harvard University. -
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