Woke up this morning, thought I was surely dead
Like some 4 o'clock spirit dropped a ghost in the middle of my bed
One, two, buckle my shoe, I ain't got time for the walking blues

Back-door pulpwooder, Mama's got a brand-new Valentine.
My bedsheets smell like chain oil and turpentine.
Three, four, out the door, I ain't gonna study love no more.

Chop down the pine tree that shades your happy home
The heart of the stump grows hard as marble stone.
Five, Child, it's six, in the Georgia sticks, we wear our blues like a crucifix.

SCL on time out of Jacksonville
I'll be waiting by the trestle when you slow your driving wheel.
Seven, eight, hop a freight, blues are falling heavyweight.

Mama, you can't find me with that brand new Ouija board.
Your hand ain't steady, and you can't spell "Baltimore".
Nine, ten, we're at the end, I ain't gonna sing these blues again.

It's eenie and meenie and minee and moe,
This morning the blues have got me by the throat
Like the big bull gator, edge of the swamp, says,
"Hie dee ho, got you now; drag you down; drown you slow."