Lyrics

Lonesome Road Blues

I’m going down that road feeling bad
Bad luck’s all I ever had
Going down that road feeling bad, lord lord
I ain’t gonna be treated this way

Got me a way down in jail on my knees
This jailer he sure is hard to please
Feeds me on corn bread and peas, lord lord
I ain’t gonna be treated this way

Sweet momma, she won’t buy me no shoes
She left me with the lonesome jailhouse blues
My sweet momma won’t buy no shoes, lord lord
I ain’t gonna be treated this way

I’m going where the chilly wind never blows
I’m going where the climate suits my clothes
I’m going where the chilly wind never blows, lord lord
I ain’t gonna be treated this way

I’ve got them old Lonesome Road Blues
Lord, I’ve got them old Lonesome Road Blues
Got them old Lonesome Road Blues
I ain’t gonna be treated this way
I ain’t gonna be treated this way