Going Down The Road Feeling Bad

Doc Watson

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    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 aint' a-gonna be treated this a-way

    Got me way down in jail on my knees
    This old jailer he sure is hrd to please
    Feed me corn, bread and peas, Lord, Lord
    And I ain't gonna be treated this a-way

    (break)

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    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 gi'me 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

    (break)

    I'm going where the climate suits my clothes
    Lord, I'm going where these chilly winds never blow (hmmhmm)
    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

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    Composición: Doc Watson

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