Tom: C
Introdução:
F C C7
Bad luck's all I've ever had
F C Am
Going down this road feeling bad, Lord, Lord,
G7 C
And I ain't gonna be treated this a-way.
Verse
F C C7
This old jailer he sure is hard to please
F C Am
Feed me on corn, bread and peas, Lord, Lord
G7 C
And I ain't gonna be treated this a-way
F C C7
Lord, she's left me with these lonesome jailhouse blues
F C Am
My sweet mama won't buy me no shoes, Lord, Lord,
G7 C
And I ain't gonna be treated this a-way.
C C7
And these two-dollar shoes hurt my feet
F C C7
The jailer won't give me enough to eat,
F C Am
These two-dollar shoes they hurt my feet, Lord, Lord,
G7 C
And I ain't gonna be treated this a-way
C C7
I'm going where the climate suits my clothes
F C C7
Lord, I'm going where these chilly winds never blow
F C Am
I'm going where the climate suits my clothes, Lord, Lord,
G7 C
And I ain't gonna be treated this a-way.
Verse
C C7 Am
Yes, I'm going down the road feeling bad, Lord, Lord,
F C C7
Lord, I'm going down the road feeling bad,
F C
Bad luck is all I've ever had,
G7 C
And I ain't gonna be treated this a-way