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TAMAÑO
TONALIDADE
+ (F4)- (F2)D
Oh, it's going down the road feeling bad
G D
Bad luck's all I've ever had
G D
Going down the road feeling bad, Lord, Lord
A D
And I ain't' a-gonna be treated this a-way
D
Got me way down in jail on my knees
G D
This old jailer he sure is hrd to please
G D
Feed me on corn, bread and peas, Lord, Lord
A D
And I ain't gonna be treated this a-way
D
Sweet mama, won't you buy me no shoes
G D
Lord, she's left me with these lonesome jailhouse blues
G D
My sweet mama won't buy me no shoes, Lord, Lord
A D
And I ain't a-gonna be treated this a-way
D
And these two-dollar shoes they hurt my feet
G D
The jailer won't gi'me enough to eat
G D
Lord, these two-dollar shoes they hurt my feet, Lord, Lord
A D
And I ain't a-gonna be treated this a-way
D
I'm going where the climate suits my clothes
G D
Lord, I'm going where these chilly winds never blow (hmmhmm)
G D
Going where the climate suits my clothes, Lord, Lord
A D
And I ain't a-gonna be treated this a-way
G D
Yes, I'm going down the road feeling bad, Lord, Lord
Lord, I'm going down this road feeling bad
G D
Bad luck is all I've ever had (it sure is)
A D
And I ain't a-gonna be treated this a-way
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TOP 20: As mais tocadas de Doc Watson
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