doc watson
going down the road feeling bad
Oh, it's going down the road feeling bad Bad luck's all I've ever had Going down the road feeling bad, Lord, Lord And I ain't' a-gonna be treated this a-way  Got me way down in jail on my knees This old jailer he sure is hard to please Feed me corn, bread and peas, Lord, Lord And I ain't gonna be treated this a-way  Sweet mama, won't you buy me no shoes Lord, she's left me with these lonesome jailhouse blues My sweet mama won't buy me no shoes, Lord, Lord And I ain't a-gonna be treated this a-way  And these two-dollar shoes they hurt my feet The jailer won't gimme enough to eat Lord, these two-dollar shoes they hurt my feet, Lord, Lord And I ain't a-gonna be treated this a-way  I'm going where the climate suits my clothes Lord, I'm going where these chilly winds never blow (hm hm) Going where the climate suits my clothes, Lord, Lord And I ain't a-gonna be treated this a-way  Yes, I'm going down the road feeling bad, Lord, Lord Lord, I'm going down this road feeling bad Bad luck is all I've ever had (it sure is) And I ain't a-gonna be treated this a-way