Jailhouse Gumbo Jones

	You woke up this morning dreaming of the blues
	He’s sitting in his armchair stumping with his shoes
	He knows it’s not the delta or highway 61
	He’s strumming his guitar like he’s far away from home
	He thinks of
	Robert Johnson in 1936
	That’s the only way he can get his kicks
	When the baby’s crying and the money’s all run out
	He’s singing for his girl of one paces in the south
	They say he was born with his rhythm in his bones
	They say that his name is
	Jailhouse
	Gumbo Jones
	They say that sometimes everybody gots the blues
	One thing about clichés is that they’re always true

	You woke up this morning dreaming of the blues
	He' s sitting in his armchair stumping with his shoes
	He knows it' s not the delta or highway 61
	He' s strumming his guitar like he' s far away from home
	He thinks of
	Robert Johnson in 1936
	That' s the only way he can get his kicks
	When the baby' s crying and the money' s all run out
	He' s singing for his girl of one paces in the south
	They say he was born with his rhythm in his bones
	They say that his name is
	Jailhouse
	Gumbo Jones
	They say that sometimes everybody gots the blues
	One thing about cliché s is that they' re always true