Well I don't know why I love you like I do
Nobody in the world can get along with you.
You got the ways of a devil sleeping in a lion's den
I come home last night you wouldn't even let me in.

Well sometimes you're as sweet as anybody want to be
When you get a crazy notion of jumpin' all over me
Well you give me the blues I guess you're satisfied
An' you give me the blues I wanna lay down and die.

I helped you when you had no shoes on your feet, pretty mama
I helped you when you had no food to eat.
You're the kind of woman I just don't understand
You're takin' all my money and give it to another man.

Well you're the kinda woman makes a man lose his brain
You're the kinda woman drives a man insane
You give me the blues, I guess you're satisfied
You give me the blues, I wanna lay down and die

Well you give me the blues, I wanna lay down and die

Ramblin' outa the wild West,
Leavin' the towns I love the best.
Thought I'd seen some ups and down,
"Til I come into New York town.
People goin' down to the ground,
Buildings goin' up to the sky.

Wintertime in New York town,
The wind blowin' snow around.
Walk around with nowhere to go,
Somebody could freeze right to the bone.
I froze right to the bone.
New York Times said it was the coldest winter in seventeen years;
I didn't feel so cold then.

I swung on to my old guitar,
Grabbed hold of a subway car,
And after a rocking, reeling, rolling ride,
I landed up on the downtown side;
Greenwich Village.

I walked down there and ended up
In one of them coffee-houses on the block.
Got on the stage to sing and play,
Man there said, "Come back some other day,
You sound like a hillbilly;
We want folk singer here."

Well, I got a harmonica job, begun to play,
Blowin' my lungs out for a dollar a day.
I blowed inside out and upside down.
The man there said he loved m' sound,
He was ravin' about how he loved m' sound;
Dollar a day's worth.

And after weeks and weeks of hangin' around,
I finally got a job in New York town,
In a bigger place, bigger money too,
Even joined the union and paid m' dues.

Now, a very great man once said
That some people rob you with a fountain pen.
It didn't take too long to find out
Just what he was talkin' about.
A lot of people don't have much food on their table,
But they got a lot of forks n' knives,
And they gotta cut somethin'.

So one mornin' when the sun was warm,
I rambled out of New York town.
Pulled my cap down over my eyes
And headed out for the western skies.
So long, New York.
Howdy, East Orange.

Well, in my time of dying don't want nobody to mourn
All I want for you to do is take my body home
Well, well, well, so I can die easy
Well, well, well
Well, well, well, so I can die easy
Jesus gonna make up, Jesus gonna make up
Jesus gonna make up my dying bed.

Well, meet me Jesus, meet me, meet me in the middle of the air
If these wings should fail me, Lord, won't you meet me with another pair?
Well, well, well, so I can die easy
Well, well, well
Well, well, well, so I can die easy
Jesus gonna make up, Jesus gonna make up
Jesus gonna make up my dying bed.

Lord, in my time of dying don't want nobody to cry
All I want for you to do is take me when I die
Well, well, well, so I can die easy
Well, well, well
Well, well, well, so I can die easy
Jesus gonna make up, Jesus gonna make up
Jesus gonna make up my dying bed.

I'm a man of constant sorrow,
I've seen trouble all my days.
I'll say goodbye to Colorado
Where I was born and partly raised.

Your mother says I'm a stranger;
My face you'll never see no more.
But there's one promise, darling,
I'll see you on Gods golden shore.

Through this open world I'm a-bound to ramble,
Through ice and snows, sleet and rain,
I'm a-bound to ride that mornin' railroad,
Perhaps I'll die on that train.

I'm going back to Colorado,
The place that I've started from.
If I'd knowed how bad you'd treat me,
Honey I never would have come.

Feeling funny in my mind, Lord,
I believe I'm fixing to die
Feeling funny in my mind, Lord
I believe I'm fixing to die
Well, I don't mind dying
But I hate to leave my children crying
Well, I look over yonder to that burying ground
Look over yonder to that burying ground
Sure seems lonesome, Lord, when the sun goes down

Feeling funny in my eyes, Lord,
I believe I'm fixing to die, fixing to die
Feeling funny in my eyes, Lord
I believe I'm fixing to die
Well, I don't mind dying but
I hate to leave my children crying
There's a black smoke rising, Lord
It's rising up above my head, up above my head
It's rising up above my head, up above my head
And tell Jesus make up my dying bed.

I'm walking kind of funny, Lord
I believe I'm fixing to die, fixing to die
Yes I'm walking kind of funny, Lord
I believe I'm fixing to die
Fixing to die, fixing to die
Well, I don't mind dying
But I hate to leave my children crying.

I've been around this whole country
But I never yet found Fennario.

Well, as we marched down
As we marched down
Well, as we marched down to Fennario
Well, our captain fell in love
With a lady like a dove
Her name that she had was Pretty Peggy-O

Well, what will your mother say
What will your mother say
What will your mother say, Pretty Peggy-O
What will your mother say
To know you're going away
You're never, never, never coming back-io ?

Come a-running down your stairs
Come a-running down your stairs
Come a-running down your stairs, Pretty Peggy-O
Come a-running down your stairs
Comb back your hair
You're the prettiest darned girl I ever seen-io.

The lieutenant he has gone
The lieutenant he has gone
The lieutenant he has gone, Pretty Peggy-O
The lieutenant he has gone
Long gone
He's a-riding down in Texas with the rodeo.

Well, our captain he is dead
Our captain he is dead
Our captain he is dead, Pretty Peggy-O
Well, our captain he is dead
Died for a maid
He's buried somewheres in Louisiana-O.

Highway 51 runs right by my baby's door
Highway 51 runs right by my baby's door
But won't get the girl I'm loving
Won't go down Highway 51 no more.

Well, I know that highway like I know my hand
Yes, I know that highway like I know the back of my hand
Running from up Wisconsin
Way down to no man's land.

Well, if I should die before my time should come
And if I should die before my time should come
Won't you bury my body
Out on Highway 51?

Highway 51 runs right by my baby's door
I said, Highway 51 runs right by my baby's door
But won't get the girl I'm loving
Won't go down Highway 51 no more.

Mary wore three links of chain,
Every link was Jesus name,
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on,
Oh, Lord, Oh, Lord,
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on.

Mary, Mark and Luke and John,
All them prophets so good and gone,
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on,
Oh, Lord, Oh, Lord,
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on.

Well I never been to heaven, but I've been told,
Streets up there are lined with gold,
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on,
Oh, Lord, Oh, Lord,
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on.
Oh, Lord, Oh, Lord,
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on.

Oh, Lord, Oh, Lord,
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on.

Baby let me follow you down,
Baby let me follow you down,
Well I'd do anything in this god almighty world
If you just let me follow you down

Baby can I come home with you
Baby can I come home with you
Well I'd do anything in this god almighty world
If you just let me come home with you

I'll buy you a diamond ring
I'll buy you a wedding gown
Well I'd do anything in this god almighty world
If you just let me follow you down

There is a house down in New Orleans
They call the risin’ sun
And it’s been the ruin of many a poor girl
And me, oh god, I’m a-one

My mother was a tailor
She sewed these new blue jeans
My sweetheart was a gambler, lord
Down in new orleans

Now the only thing a gambler needs
Is a suitcase and a trunk
And the only time he’s satisfied
Is when he’s on a drunk

He fills his glasses up to the brim
And he’ll pass the cards around
And the only pleasure he gets out of life
Is ramblin’ from town to town

Oh tell my baby sister
Not to do what I have done
But shun that house in new orleans
They call the risin’ sun

Well, it’s one foot on the platform
And the other foot on the train
I’m goin’ back to new orleans
To wear that ball and chain

I’m a-goin’ back to New Orleans
My race is almost run
I’m goin’ back to end my life
Down in the risin’ sun

There is a house in New Orleans
They call the risin’ sun
It’s been the ruin of many poor girl
And me, oh god, I’m a-one

I was born in dixie in a boomer's shack,
Just a little shanty by the railroad track
Freight train was comin' I had to cry,
Hummin all the drivers with my lullaby
I've got the freight train blues (hee, hee, hoo)
Oh, lawdy mama got 'em on the bottom of my ramblin' shoes

And when the whistle blows, I gotta go
Baby don't you know
It looks like I'm never gonna lose
The freight train blues.

Well, my daddy was a fireman in a house out here
She was the only daughter of the engineer
Sweetheart of the brakeman, that ain't no joke
It's a shame the way she keeps a good man broke.
I got the freight train blues (hee, hee, hoo)
Oh, lawdy I got 'em in the bottom of my ramblin' shoes

And when the whistle blows, I gotta go
Oh mama don't you know
It looks like I'm never gonna lose
The freight train blues.

Well, the only thing that makes you laugh again
Is a south bound whistle on a south bound train
Ev'ry place I want to go
I never go because you know
Because I got the freight train blues (hee, hee, hoo)
Oh, lawdy mama, got 'em on the bottom of my ramblin' shoes

I'm out here a thousand miles from my home,
Walkin' a road other men have gone down.
I'm seein' your world of people and things,
Your paupers and peasants and princes and kings.

Hey, hey Woody Guthrie, I wrote you a song
'Bout a funny ol' world that's a-comin' along.
Seems sick an' it's hungry, it's tired an' it's torn,
It looks like it's a-dyin' an' it's hardly been born.

Hey Woody Guthrie, but I know that you know
All the things that I'm a-sayin' an' a-many times more.
I'm a-singin' you the song, but I can't sing enough,
'Cause there's not many men that done the things that you've done.

Here's to Cisco an' Sonny an' Leadbelly too,
An' to all the good people that traveled with you.
Here's to the hearts and the hands of the men
That come with the dust and are gone with the wind.

I'm a-leaving' tomorrow, but I could leave today,
Somewhere down the road someday.
The very last thing that I'd want to do
Is to say I've been hittin' some hard travelin' too.

Well there's one kind favor I'll ask of you
Well there's one kind favor I'll ask of you
There's just one kind favor I'll ask of you
You can see that my grave is kept clean.

An' there's two white horses followin' me
An' there's two white horses followin' me
I got two white horses followin' me
Waitin' on my buryin' ground.

Did you ever hear that coffin sound
Did you ever hear that coffin sound
Did you ever hear that coffin sound
Means another poor boy is underground.

Did you ever hear them church bells toll
Did you ever hear them church bells toll
Did you ever hear them church bells toll
Means another poor boy is dead an' gone.

It's a long ol' road that never ends
It's a long ol' road that never ends
It's a long ol' trail that never ends
It's a bad wind that never changes.

Well my heart stop beatin' an' my hands turn cold
An' my heart stop beatin' an' my hands turn cold
Well my heart stop beatin' lord my hands turn cold
Now i believe what the bible told.

There's just one last favor I'll ask of you
And there's one last favor I'll ask of you
There's just one last favor I'll ask of you
See that my grave is kept clean.